
Class J^X-*L233 

BookJB-13ii4 



Copyright N°. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



THE QUEST OF LIFE 



Other Books by the Same Author 

The Cap and Gown 

The Main Points 

The Modern Man's Religion 

The Social Message of the Modern 

Pulpit 
The Young Man's Affairs 
Faith and Health 
The Strange Ways of God 
The Latent Energies in Life 



THE QUEST OF LIFE 



BY 



CHARLES REYNOLDS BROWN 

l[ 

Dean of Yale Divinity School 




THE PILGRIM PRESS 

BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 



<^ 



COPYRIGHT, 1913 
BY LUTHER H. CARY 



THE • PLIMPTON • PRESS 

[ W • D • O ] 
NORWOOD-MASS-U-S-A 



©CU35452. 



TO THE GOOD FRIENDS IN THE FIRST 
CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH OF OAKLAND 
CALIFORNIA WHERE FOR NEARLY FIFTEEN 
YEARS I ENJOYED THE HIGH PRIVILEGE OF 
PREACHING TO A MOST APPRECIATIVE CON- 
GREGATION, I DEDICATE THESE SERMONS, 
IN GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION 



A FOREWORD 

The publishers asked me for a group of sermons 
dealing in the main with some one common interest. 
In my other books I have followed a somewhat differ- 
ent line from the one taken here. "The Main Points " 
is a study in Christian belief. "The Social Message of 
the Modern Pulpit" deals with the application o'f re- 
ligious principles to industrial conditions. "The Cap 
and Gown," "The Young Man's Affairs" and "The 
Modern Man's Religion " were written chiefly for college 
students. "Faith and Health" discusses the immediate 
utility of mental and spiritual forces in gaining and keep- 
ing a more complete and reliable physical efficiency. 

The sermons in this volume have been selected for 
their bearing upon personal religion. I shall be glad 
if they help to light the way for the open mind and 
resolute heart into a finer experience of those aids to 
right living which come from a world unseen. They 
all have to do with "The Quest of Life." 



CONTENTS 

Page 

I The Quest of Life 3 

II Where Do You Live? 21 

III The Vision of God 41 

IV The City that Lieth Four Square . . 59 
V The Power of Request 77 

VI The Right Frontage in Life .... 95 

VII The Man Within the Man . . . . 113 

VIII The Highest Form of Sacrifice . . . 127 

IX Broken Plans 143 

X The Measure of Human Responsibility 161 

XI The High Office of Sympathy . . . 179 

XII Greater Things Ahead 197 

XIII The Religious Life Under Changed 

Conditions 213 

XIV The Uses of Disappointment .... 231 
XV The Rank and File 247 



I 

THE QUEST OF LIFE 



" Seek ye the kingdom of God and all these things 
shall be added" — Luke xii, 31. 



THE QUEST OF LIFE 

THE quest of life — it's "what all the 
world 's a-seeking." People everywhere 
want to see life. They want to know life. They 
want to possess life. They are eager to feel 
themselves alive — alive at all points, alive in 
the most effective and enjoyable ways. 

The novel is read by the many, the scholarly 
essay by the few, because people feel that the 
story shows them life in a more direct way. 
The theater makes a wide appeal and the 
thoughtful lecture a narrow one because people 
feel that the play on the stage shows them life. 
The cheap moving-picture show lords it over 
the art gallery in popular interest because in 
the former the pictures seem to have life — 
they move. Everywhere it is the same. The 
people want to see life, to know life, and to 
possess life. It is the universal quest. 

Now there is One who is competent to direct 
us in this quest. " In him was life." How- 
ever it came about, whatever our theological 
presuppositions may be, we all recognize the 
fact that in him there was life without qualifi- 
cation, life abundant, life eternal. 

[3] 



The Quest of Life 

He had an abounding physical life. We do 
not read of his ever being ill for an hour. He 
moved about diffusing health. He took the 
sick, the crippled, the leprous by the hand fear- 
lessly and lifted them up. 

He had presence and personality. He en- 
tered the temple and finding it full of noisy, 
dickering, cheating traders rose up in his in- 
dignation and drove them out single-handed. 
It requires some personal force to drive a lot 
of Jews out of a place where they are making 
money. When he was at Nazareth the people 
were angry because he had rebuked them. 
They sought to thrust him over the edge of 
the cliff. But he calmly passed through their 
midst, overawing them, and went his way. 
Not a man of them dared touch him. When 
the chief priests sent their officers to arrest him 
the men came back empty-handed. " Why 
have ye not brought him? " They could not. 
When Pilate examined him and found no fault 
in him, he cried out, ' * Behold the man ' ' — 
Pilate had never seen a man before. When 
the final crash came the scribes and Pharisees 
did not dare to lay hands upon him until they 
had skillfully secured the backing of the Eoman 
government on the trumped-up charge of trea- 
son. He had presence and personality. " In 
him was life," and men stood in reverence 
before that august manifestation of " life." 

He had mental life. He saw clearly; he 
spoke as never man spake. He lived before 
the age of printing ; books there were none and 

[4] 



The Quest of Life 

manuscripts were scarce, yet he uttered say- 
ings so profound that nineteen centuries of 
thinking have not as yet dropped their plumb- 
line to the bottom of them. He uttered the final 
word touching many important interests. He 
said the governing principle of social life should 
be this, " Love one another as I have loved 
you." That leaves nothing more to be said 
— it is a final word. He said the goal of moral 
aspiration was to be this — i i Be ye therefore 
perfect even as your Father in heaven is per- 
fect. ' ' Here also is a final word. He spoke of 
that widespread, age-long habit of prayer and 
said, " When ye pray, say ' Our Father.' " 
We are children at home in our father's house; 
the ultimate force in the universe is parental 
in character. We are to take that attitude and 
hold it. Here also is a final word on the sub- 
ject of prayer. He knew what was in man, 
what was in all these varied human interests, 
and needed not that any should tell him. His 
mind was alive and rich. 

He had spiritual life. He challenged his 
enemies, " Which one of you convicteth me of 
sin? " No man did; no man could. His life 
was stainless. " I do always those things 
which please the Father," he said. It was no 
passive, pallid innocence which he showed — 
it was a positive, massive, militant type of 
goodness. " I come to do the will of him who 
sent me, ' ' — and he did it. He could say 
boldly to the noblest man and to the purest 

In all the centuries 
[5] 



The Quest of Life 

since human aspiration has never reached the 
point where it felt impelled to turn away from 
him toward some more perfect embodiment of 
the ideal. He claimed to manifest the divine — 
" He that hath seen me hath seen the. Father." 
And the highest thought of God the human 
mind and heart have ever grasped has been 
the thought of " the God and Father of our 
Lord Jesus Christ " manifested in terms of 
his own matchless life. " In him was life," 
— life complete, abundant, eternal ; and to this 
hour that life is the light of men. 

He will be competent to direct us in our 
quest of life. Let us ask him then what it 
means to live. 

In the passage where the text stands Jesus 
indicated plainly the folly of seeking life in 
the contents of a building. " The ground of 
a certain rich man brought forth plentifully." 
He was embarrassed by lack of room to house 
his good things. He decided to pull down his 
barns and build greater. "When he had filled 
those big barns to the eaves with good things 
he said to his soul, " Take thine ease; eat, 
drink, be merry — thou hast enough laid up to 
last for years." 

The foolish man thought that life could be 
gained from the contents of a barn, or a bank, 
or some such building, provided only it be large 
and well filled. God called him " a fool." 
When he awoke in the clearer light which fol- 
lowed upon that night when his soul was re- 
quired of him, he called himself " a fool." The 

[6] 



The Quest of Life 

thoughtful part of the world to-day calls him 
" a fool." No man can gain life by possessing 
himself of the contents of a big building. 

There are two reasons for this — first, the 
material is not adequate. " A man's life con- 
sisteth not in the abundance of the things that 
he possesseth." Life is not made of things. 
It uses them. The Heavenly Father knows that 
we have need of certain things, food, raiment, 
shelter and the like, but life transcends all 
these. The millionaire is not necessarily pos- 
sessed of life because he owns more food, more 
clothes, more houses, more things generally 
than any of the rest of us. His real life does 
not consist of the things he can buy and own. 
Man lives by bread, but not by bread alone, 
be it ever so abundant. If the bread should 
become cake and wine, terrapin and canvas- 
back duck, with all the other luxuries conceiv- 
able, still the man could not live by these alone. 
Men may build their buildings and pull them 
down and build greater. They may fill these 
buildings to the eaves with things laid up for 
many years, but the fact stands that life is 
not sustained solely nor mainly by things. 

Here are two people who find the sweetest 
joy in life in a certain rare companionship. In 
an ascertained congeniality of mind, in a satis- 
fying sympathy of purpose, in an ennobling 
affection which has come to possess their 
hearts, they find life which is life indeed. 
They may possess ten barns, or two, or 
none; they may possess an abundance of 

[7] 



The Quest of Life 

things or just enough for their needs; in 
either case their entrance into life is indepen- 
dent of the scale of their possessions. When 
they are together and know the touch of life 
on life with its blending of interest they have 
bread enough and to spare. And whether that 
sense of fellowship is between two finite spirits 
or between a finite and the Infinite Spirit there 
is something enjoyed which utterly transcends 
the world of things. Look not for life in the 
contents of a building — you will not find it 
there. 

Furthermore, our tenure of things is too un- 
certain for us to find real life in the contents of 
a building. When the foolish man had built 
his big barns and filled them, this word came — 
it always comes — ' ' This night thy soul shall 
be required of thee: then whose shall those 
things be? " 

Whose indeed! He had staked his life 
on a collection of things. Now, in one brief 
hour, they were gone! They were no longer 
his. 

" How much did he leave? " one man asked 
another as they took their seats in the car. 
" He left all he had," was the reply. If that 
were actually true, then his life was a tragedy. 
He may have had things in abundance, but if 
that was all he had, if he lacked those qualities 
of mind and heart which alone have permanent 
worth, if he had made no accumulation of 
Christian character, if he had written no record 
of unselfish service, his life was a tragedy. 

[8] 



The Quest of Life 

Alas for the man who is compelled to leave all 
he has, for our tenure of things is insecure! 

There is only one form of possession where 
our tenure is sure. There is only one thing 
which no man is ever compelled to leave be- 
hind, and that is himself. He takes his own 
qualities of mind and heart, his own measure 
of character, his own record of usefulness or 
the reverse with him wherever he goes. That 
single fact becomes his highest reward or his 
sorest penalty. No man is good company for 
himself permanently unless he is a man with 
the peace and the promise of Christian faith. 

We read that " Judas went out, and it was 
night." It was always night from that hour, 
whenever and wherever Judas went — for 
Judas. It is a terrible thing to have a traitor 
in the room. There was always a traitor 
present wherever Judas went. He left his 
thirty pieces of silver behind, but he took the 
traitor with him into the unseen world. The 
tenure of things is insecure: the only sure 
hold that any man has is upon his own inner 
life as it lies open to the eye of God. 

There comes an hour — it is not far away for 
the youngest; it is there at the door for some 
of us — when all that any man is worth is the 
good he has done and the character he has 
won. No matter what Bradstreet says. Though 
the chamber of commerce may adjourn on the 
day of his funeral and all the flags of the city 
fly at half-mast, all that the man is worth is 
the good he has done and the character he has 

[9] 



The Quest of Life 

won. And that is the real worth of every man 
all the time. It is all that any man is worth 
at any time. 

Therefore, because that hour cometh and now 
is, it is the part of wisdom to do good; follow 
him; provide bags that wax not old; lay up 
treasure where neither moth nor rust, neither 
thieves nor disease break through. In a word, 
be rich toward God if you would have life 
which is life indeed. 

In the second place, Jesus indicated the 
futility of an anxious, fretful quest of life. 
" Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall 
eat or what ye shall wear. The life is more 
than meat ; it is more than raiment. Consider 
the ravens, they neither sow nor reap, yet God 
feeds them. Consider the lilies, they neither 
toil nor spin, yet God clothes them. Are ye 
not much better than they? Your Heavenly 
Father knows that ye have need of all these 
things. Therefore be not anxious," in your 
quest of life, i ' neither be ye of doubtful mind. ' ■ 

How strange those words sound when we 
take them at their full face value! I am not 
thinking now of those poor unfortunates to 
whom existence is a daily, hourly struggle. 
I am thinking of those who are fairly well to 
do. Be not anxious! Why, some of you are 
worried within an inch of your lives over these 
questions of food and raiment with the present 
cost of living. What shall we eat? How much 
of it and how costly shall it be? How expen- 
sive shall we make the dining-room where we 
[10] 



The Quest of Life 

eat it, and the kitchen where it is prepared? 
How much shall we spend on the linen and the 
china, the silver and the cut glass we use in 
getting it down our throats? How many ser- 
vants shall we keep to cook it and to serve it? 
This question of eating and of getting the bills 
paid is a tremendous question! We cannot 
treat it as of small importance, as if we were 
so many ravens. We live in a state of chronic 
anxiety over this matter of eating, with all 
its implications. 

" What shall we put on? " And what is still 
more vital, how will it look when we get it 
on? How numerous and how costly shall our 
garments be ? What shall be the style and make 
of them? How much of ornament — jewels, 
feathers, ribbons, and what not — shall we add 
for our further beautifying? And what shall 
we wrap around ourselves in the way of houses, 
furniture, and all the other trappings of life — 
for a man's house is merely a garment which 
he wears at night and in the winter, when it 
rains, and whenever he is indoors. In a word, 
how costly shall this whole outer shell of burs 
be made? Many people are kept on a constant 
tension, wearing themselves out before their 
time over this question, " What shall we put 
on? " 

The Master saw this fret and fuss. He there- 
fore undertook to turn men's minds away from 
that which is secondary to that which is pri- 
mary. What shall I eat? It is a necessary 
question, but it is secondary. There is an- 

[11] 



The Quest of Life 

other question to be answered first. The pri- 
mary question is, Am I worth feeding? Is it 
important that I should be kept alive? Does 
the world particularly need a man of my type 1 
The life is more than meat. The question as 
to the quality of the life takes precedence over 
the question of meat to feed that life. 1 

What shall I put on? If I am going into 
society I must put on something. But that 
question also is secondary. Is it important that 
I should go? Will society be any happier, 
any wiser, any better because I am there? 
This is the primary question. The inner life 
is of more importance than all questions of 
raiment. Therefore Jesus said in effect, " Be 
not anxious in your quest of life what ye shall 
eat and wear — seek first that which is 
fundamental. ' ' 

In the third place he indicated the true prin- 
ciple for the attainment of real life. " Seek 
first the kingdom of God and all these things 
shall be added." Now just what does that 
mean? Not in theological patois or in eccle- 
siastical dialect, but in plain English, what 
does it mean? 

The kingdom of God is not a far-away celes- 
tial state of reward to which a few people go 
when they die. It is not an ecclesiastical en- 
closure over here somewhere, quite apart from 
the common interests of food and clothing, in- 
habited solely by a few people of pietistic habit. 
It is not a subtle, peculiar style of personal 
experience to be attained only by a few rare 
[12] 



The Quest of Life 

temperaments. The kingdom of God stands 
for that whole section of life which owns and 
obeys the sway and rule of the divine spirit 
manifested in Jesus Christ. That is the king- 
dom of God! It is personal and it is institu- 
tional; it is visible and it is invisible; it is 
present as a moral achievement, and it lies in 
the future as an ultimate ideal. That entire 
section of human interest which strives to obey 
the spirit which was in him constitutes the 
kingdom of God. 

Now in your quest of life seek that ! Seek it 
first in your own heart. Seek it at all those 
points where your life impinges upon the lives 
of your fellows. Seek it, if you are an em- 
ployer, in the treatment of those other lives 
which are bound up with yours in that enter- 
prise which enables you to eat and drink. Ask 
yourself point by point as you make up your 
mind about wages and hours, about the con- 
ditions of employment and the distribution of 
values, what the rule of the divine spirit would 
mean here. Seek it in the place and part you 
hold in the whole organized life of the com- 
munity. In all those common relationships 
which are the warp and woof of human ex- 
istence say to him, ' ' Thy kingdom come ' ' — 
come here, come now! " Thy will be done 
here as it is done in heaven. ,, For as surely 
as God lives, if you seek that sublime quality 
of life, you will find; and all things needed 
will be added. 

To seek the kingdom of God is to live out 
[13] 



The Quest of Life 

the law of one's own being. It is to fulfill the 
deeper purpose of human existence. It is to 
attain self-realization on higher levels and in 
fuller measure. And when any man seeks the 
kingdom of God by living out the law of his 
own being in personal and social terms he 
makes his quest of life successful. 

Jesus announced this fundamental principle 
and then proceeded to illustrate it. He pointed 
to the birds and the flowers. Consider the 
ravens, they neither sow nor reap, they have 
neither storehouse nor barn, yet God feeds 
them. Consider the lilies, they neither toil nor 
spin, yet Solomon in all his glory was never 
so well dressed as one of these wild flowers. 
How much better are ye than they ! Why then 
are ye anxious f 

You have heard beautiful sermons preached 
from this passage. Young men in white ties 
held before you the loveliest ideals. They 
told you to " consider the lilies. ' ' The lilies 
neither toil nor spin; they neither fret nor 
fuss — they just "grow." And you thought 
of the utter futility of trying to put that into 
practice. You thought of going to your place 
of business with its thousand cares, or to your 
housekeeping with its thousand and one cares, 
or to your schoolroom full of restless urchins 
not eager to be educated but looking upon you 
as the common enemy, or to your complaining 
patients full of their whims and conceits ! What 
could a lily, neither toiling nor spinning but 
avoiding all fret and fuss, accomplish there! 
[14] 



The Quest of Life 

And in the face of the demands made you de- 
cided that the principle would not work. You 
decided that you could not be a lily and accom- 
plish your task. And you threw the young 
man's sermon and the lovely picture in this 
passage out of the window. You regarded it 
as a bit of sentimental idealism, uttered by 
some oriental dreamer, and entirely unsuited 
to this busy, bustling world of ours. 

But you missed the point! The lily does 
not toil nor spin. It was not made to toil and 
spin. It does the things it was made to do. It 
lives out the law of its being; it fulfills the 
purpose of its creation; it attains to its own 
self-realization; it seeks the kingdom of God. 

The lily is not idle. It reaches down steadily 
with its roots into the soil that it may claim 
its nourishment. It opens its leaves to the rain 
and dew. It looks up into the face of the sun 
for the light and warmth needed for the flow- 
ering forth of its own inner beauty. It lives 
out its lilyhood, not fretfully but energetically, 
and God clothes it with a beauty which Solomon 
in all his glory never reached. Out of the black 
mud where it grows the lily forms a flower 
white and fair which the loveliest woman might 
wear for her adornment. 

The ravens do not sow nor reap. They were 
not made to sow and reap. They feel no mys- 
terious impulses within impelling them to build 
storehouses and barns. They do the things 
they were made to do. They live out the law 
of their being. They fly to and fro, keen of 
[15] 



The Quest of Life 

eye and swift of wing; and when they seek 
in this way for their self-realization, in the 
great abiding order which enfolds them, they 
are fed. They live out their ravenhood, not 
fretfully nor anxiously, but with a serene trust, 
and God feeds them. 

Here, then, we have a principle capable of 
universal application! Live out your man- 
hood; live out your womanhood! Do the 
things you were made to do. Be true to the 
law of your being. Seek your self-realization 
on the highest levels. You will not leave off 
toiling and spinning — you were not made to 
be lilies. You will not give up sowing and 
reaping — you are not meant to be ravens. 
You will labor six days wisely and usefully, 
doing all your work — it is the command of 
God. You will rest and aspire one day in 
seven — this, too, is the command of God. And 
when men and women thus live out their man- 
hood and their womanhood, intelligently and 
conscientiously bringing their lives personally 
and socially into harmony with the purpose of 
God for them, they may live without fret or 
worry. They may live in the sweet assurance 
that in the great abiding order which enfolds 
them they, too, will be fed and clothed. They 
will indeed be fed with that bread which comes 
down from above and be clothed with that 
righteousness which is the fine linen of the 
saints. Seek first the kingdom of God and all 
things will be added. 

The final ground of our assurance in this 
[16] 



The Quest of Life 

quest of life is the good will of the Eternal. 
" Fear not, it is your Father's good pleasure 
to give you the kingdom. " He finds his su- 
preme joy in aiding you in the attainment of 
your highest and holiest desires. When any 
man is faced wrong he has the moral universe 
against him. When he is faced right he has 
the moral universe to back him in his venture. 

You are eager to see life and know life and 
possess life. If you will enter upon that high 
quest striving for the rule of the divine spirit 
in all the round of daily experience, striving 
to live out the law of your being, you may share 
in the untroubled serenity of the birds and the 
flowers. Seek first the kingdom and you will 
enter into life, free and joyous, abundant and 
eternal. 



[17] 



II 

WHERE DO YOU LIVE? 



"Rabbi, where dwellest Thou? 
He saith unto them, Come and see" 
— John" i, 38, 39, 



II 

WHERE DO YOU LIVE? 

YOU are frequently asked, especially if you 
happen to be away from home, " Where 
do you live? " Some one is trying to locate 
you. He feels that he might understand your 
life better if he had you related to some set 
of facts with which he is already familiar. 

You name some city, New York, Chicago, 
San Francisco, as the case may be. You have 
not answered the man's question. It may be 
that was all he wanted to know, but his question 
suggests a great deal more than that. Now as 
a matter of fact, where do you really live? 
Two men may reside in the same city and yet 
live as far apart as the North Pole and the 
South Pole. Two men may reside on the same 
street or in the same house and yet have a 
whole continent between. It is not a question 
of geography. You cannot tell where any man 
lives by looking at the map or in the city 
directory. You must examine the contents of 
the man. It is a question of his own dominant 
interest. In that deeper sense, where do you 
really live? Where are you at home? Where 
may I address you and be sure of reaching 
[21] 



The Quest of Life 

you? It is a vital question. If every one would 
stand up and tell us exactly where he lives it 
would be more interesting and more profitable 
than any sermon ever preached. 

You said a moment ago that you lived in 
Chicago. What is Chicago? A place on the 
map? A collection of buildings there on the 
west shore of Lake Michigan? That is not 
Chicago — that is where you will find Chicago. 
But Chicago itself is a vast array of human 
interests, a bewildering complexity of hopes 
and fears, longings and yearnings, aspirations 
and resolves. There are ten thousand differ- 
ent Chicagos, some of them high and fine, some 
of them low and mean. In what particular 
Chicago are you at home? Where in all that 
mass of interest and activity are you rooted, 
grounded, naturalized, domiciled? You see 
how this question " Where do you live? " goes 
down to the root of the matter. It finds every 
man, as we say in the common phrase, " right 
where he lives." 

It was so when the question was first asked 
there in my text. John the Baptist saw a 
majestic figure coming down from the north. 
He saw Jesus of Nazareth taking his first steps 
in that service which has changed the moral 
history of the world. And when he saw him 
approach he said in reverent tones, " Behold, 
the Lamb of God! He is taking away the sin 
of the world! " 

Two of John's disciples heard him speak and 
they followed Jesus. And as they saw in his 
[22] 



Where Do You Live? 

face the glory of the Eternal, as they heard 
the accents of power fall from his lips, as they 
felt a strange, mysterious influence stealing in 
upon their hearts while they companied with 
him, they began to wonder where he lived. 
They wanted to locate him in this whirling com- 
plexity of interest. They wanted to relate him 
in definite fashion to that world of experience 
which they knew. And they said, " Eabbi, 
where dwellest thou? " It was the same 
familiar question — " Where do you live? " 

Where did the Son of man live? In what 
part of the world; in how much of the world? 
In what part of the world and in how much of 
the world does any man live? The philoso- 
phers tell us that each man's impression or 
perception of the world is the only reality there 
is in the case for him. The only world that 
exists for me is the world that I personally 
can see and hear and feel, the system of reality 
with which I stand related, to which I make 
response. There may be ten thousand other 
worlds, but if they do not enter into my per- 
sonal consciousness they do not exist for me. 
Things only become real to me as they enter 
into my own immediate experience. 

When we view it in this light what an end- 
less variety of worlds there are! What dif- 
ferent impressions are made upon individuals 
by this system of reality around us and above 
us and beneath us! The beauty of form and 
color is not in the blind man's world — rain- 
bows and sunsets do not exist for him. It is 
[23] 



The Quest of Life 

all as though they were not. Melody and har- 
mony are not in the deaf man's world. He 
lives in a world of unbroken silence. The 
overture to Tannhauser or the fifth . symphony 
of Beethoven, the songs of the birds and the 
laughter of little children have no meaning and 
no existence for him. They are not in his 
world. The spiritual values, forces and activi- 
ties do not exist for the man who is dead or 
indifferent to them all. They are not in his 
world. In every case the presence or the ab- 
sence of a certain faculty determines the range 
of reality for that particular man — it deter- 
mines whether his world shall be large or small, 
rich in content or meager. 

What sort of a world do you live in? How 
much of the world do you live in? It depends 
not so much upon what is outside of you as 
upon what is inside of you. What are your 
powers of perception and appreciation? What 
is the range of reality to which you stand re- 
lated? To how many different forms of 
stimulus do you make response? At how many 
points, on how many levels do you react ? This 
is what determines the real content of each 
man's world. Some man may reside, so far 
as his postoffice address is concerned, in the 
most favored spot on earth and yet live all 
his days in a place as uninteresting as Jersey 
City. : 

Let me illustrate in homely fashion: I take 
my dog with me into the Dresden gallery. He 
sees all that I see, physically speaking. He 
[24] 



Where Do You Live ? 

probably sees a great deal more, for his eye- 
sight is better than mine: he has never had 
to succumb to the indignity of glasses. But 
when we come out, after visiting every room, 
the Sistine Madonna is not in the dog's world. 
It is in my world. It has been in my world ever 
since I saw it for the first time twenty years 
ago. I see it, I feel it, I rejoice in the inspira- 
tion of it even as I stand here. But the dog 
might live out all his days in the Dresden 
gallery and never see it. The Sistine Madonna 
would not enter his world. It is not a question 
of eyesight but of insight. It is the mind that 
sees more than the eyes. 

It is only six feet, more or less, for any of 
us from one world to the other. Here we are 
with our feet on the ground, of the earth, earthy. 
Here we are dust of its dust and destined to 
make return. Here we are with our heads 
among the stars, in a world of vision, aspiration 
and high resolve. And this world where our 
minds go is as real as the streets and the lanes 
where our feet go. In which world are you 
most at home? Where does your mind go when 
it is free to do not what it must but what it 
likes? Where does your heart go in its pre- 
vailing moods and desires? 

You have cellars in your homes, stored with 
coal an I provisions, but you do not live down 
there. You have kitchens where food is pre- 
pared, and dining-rooms where it is tastefully 
served, but you do not live there, I trust. You 
have living-rooms, as we say, and libraries, 
[25] 



The Quest of Life 

with opportunities innumerable for intellectual 
and social enjoyment, but you cannot live by 
these alone. Unless you have in your home 
and in your life an upper room facing squarely 
upon the sky, looking out upon a horizon 
bounded by nothing nearer than the stars and 
the being of God, you are not living in the world 
for which you were intended. Give me then 
your full address — and by your definition of 
the world you live in, I shall know the quality of 
your life. 

How many different worlds there are for 
the men we meet in daily life! Here are four 
men! The first man lives in a stream of com- 
modities. His world is a river of things to 
be bought and sold. Now it flows this way and 
now it flows that way, but always in such a 
way as to turn the wheels of his mill and grind 
him out a grist of profits. He lives in that 
stream of commodities as a trout lives in the 
brook. He eats in it, sleeps in it, dreams in 
it, works in it, seven days in the week. He 
is never out of it for an hour, from Monday 
morning to Sunday night. Talk to him on ?,ny 
other topic than that of trade and you find him 
as dull as a pine stump. He feels sure that a 
man's life does consist in the abundance of the 
things he can buy, a certain eminent authority 
to the contrary notwithstanding. And this is 
the world he lives in: it is the only world he 
knows. 

Here is another man who lives in a world of 
books, ideas, judgments. He is interested in 
[26] 



Where Do You Live? 

outlooks, insights and discriminations. He 
knows ten times as much about Plato and Aris- 
totle, who have been dead two thousand years, 
as he does about Mr. John D. Rockefeller, who 
is very much alive. In his world the quota- 
tions and transactions have to do with the 
truth, and particularly with that form of truth 
which sets men free from blindness and evil. 
He strives to keep his credit good by keeping 
his eye single, that his whole moral nature may 
be full of light. He feels that wisdom is the 
principal thing, that its value is above rubies; 
and he strives with all his getting to get under- 
standing. And that is the sort of world he 
lives in. 

Here is a third man who lives in a world of 
distrust, suspicion and insinuation. He re- 
joices in iniquity more than in the truth. He 
smacks his lips over any fresh bit of it which 
comes his way. He prides himself on his free- 
dom from all illusions and enthusiasms. < ' They 
are all devils," he says; " they all have horns 
and hoofs hidden away under their clothes and 
conventionalities." He feels that he is simply 
a smarter devil than the rest. He says with 
a sneer, " Every man has his price,' ' knowing 
that he has his price. He is cold, cynical, dis- 
. agreeable, untouched by those generous enthu- 
siasms which fire the hearts of his fellows. He 
Jives in that world which Dante saw when he 
wrote the ' * Inferno. ' ' This man could write a 
description of the Inferno himself as accu- 
rate as a Baedeker. And this world of cynical 
[27] 



The Quest of Life 

distrust is the only world where he feels at 
home. 

Here is another man whose head is full of 
visions and dreams of better things. He lives 
in a world where everybody is kind and good, 
hopeful and helpful. He is all that: he thinks 
people generally are, as indeed many of them 
are when he is present. He carries with him 
an atmosphere which stimulates the best in 
every life. He carries the atmosphere which 
Forbes Eobertson carried into the boarding 
house in Bloomsbury in " The Passing of the 
Third Floor Back. ' ' It is an atmosphere which 
has a wholesome effect upon the selfish and the 
sluggish, encouraging them to be kind and good, 
hopeful and helpful. This man appraises 
everything in terms of spiritual value. To him 
it is all property, real and personal, possessed 
of worth unspeakable. He has religion, not as 
a history of something that happened a long 
time ago, not as a remote theory about things, 
not as a piece of stately ritual. He has reli- 
gion as an experience, as a life. He lives in a 
world where God the Father is above all and in 
all and through all things. And this is his 
world. 

How far apart these four men seem when 
we look at them! Yet they may all reside in 
the same town and on the same street. Now 
and then they may meet for an hour at the 
baseball game or in the theater or at church. 
They seem for the moment to have a common 
interest. But the meeting breaks up and each 
[28] 



Where Do You Live? 

man goes his way. Each one returns to his 
own particular world and goes sailing along 
through space like the earth on its orbit. 

The sky is a roomy place ; the sun, the moon 
and all the stars are there, each one moving 
on its appointed way without touching any of 
the rest. The world of human life is a great, 
wide, roomy place; there is a chance for every 
conceivable type. And each man builds up his 
own particular planet of being, his own sphere 
of action, by the relations he sustains, by the 
values on which he sets his heart, by the forms 
of action into which he enters. He builds his 
own planet of life and then moves with it on 
his own selected orbit through this universe 
of interest. Where in all that world of infinite 
variety do you dwell? How much of that world 
of reality, seen and unseen, has become real to 
you! 

But let me return again to the original set- 
ting of the text. The two men asked Christ 
where he lived. " Rabbi, where dwellest 
thou? " Speaking after the manner of men, 
he did not live in much of a world. He was 
born in the manger of a stable. He was brought 
up in the home of a carpenter at Nazareth. 
When I was in Nazareth a few years ago they 
showed me the house. It may not have been 
the identical house — I have no idea that it 
was — but it was some such humble affair, for 
his people were poor. When he grew up and 
entered upon his active service going about 
doing good, there were times when he had 
[29] 



The Quest of Life 

nowhere to lay his head. He accepted hospi- 
tality when it was offered, sometimes by rich 
men like Zacchaeus, sometimes by the fairly 
well-to-do, like Mary and Martha, and some- 
times by those who were as poor as himself. 
When nothing offered, he slept out and ate the 
raw wheat which his disciples plucked in the 
fields. When he came to die he did not die in 
a bed — he died on a cross and his body was 
laid in a borrowed tomb. When you study the 
record of his life it seems to lack any worthy 
setting. It was a rough world for him to live 
in. The foxes had holes and the birds of the 
air had nests, but the Son of man was without 
worthy residence. 

But where did he actually live during all 
that time? I wish I could tell you. It would 
make this sermon forever memorable. I could 
not possibly put it in words. No man could. 
He who spoke as never man spake could not 
put it in words. He would not even try. When 
men undertook to locate him in this complexity 
of interest and activity, you remember his reply. 
He did not name a certain city or town. 
" Eabbi, where dwellest thou? " Jesus an- 
swered, " Come and see." Come and live in my 
world! Come and live in it for a day, for an 
hour, and then you will know! It was the 
only way they could know. The greatest things 
in life cannot be described — they must be seen 
and felt and experienced at first hand. 

He did not undertake to describe the world 
he lived in but he gave us several significant 
[30] 



Where Do You Live? 

hints. He lived in a world where he could say 
at any moment, " I am not alone, the Father 
is with me." He had unbrokenly the sense of 
divine companionship. He felt that he was 
allied with the Infinite. He claimed kinship 
with the Eternal. He might be walking through 
a crowded street, the people thronging him; 
he might be asleep in the hinder part of a boat ; 
he might be addressing a multitude from the 
hillside; he might be alone at prayer on the 
mountain top. It mattered not — he was not 
alone; the Father was with him. He had un- 
brokenly that sense of an exalted fellowship. 

He lived in a world where he could say, " I 
come not to do mine own will but the will of 
him that sent me." He had the sense of mis- 
sion. He did not live by mood or whim. He 
did not dash aimlessly here or there on any 
passing impulse. He was building his life finely 
and steadily into a far-reaching, divine plan. 
He was shaping his course with reference to a 
purpose which reached from the hour when the 
morning stars sang together on to the day when 
a victorious host shall stand before the throne 
singing the song of moral achievement. He 
was making himself at home in those great 
moral processes which are to bring the city of 
God, the ideal social order, down out of heaven 
and set it up in active operation on this 
common earth. He had a plan, a purpose, 
a goal, and he steadfastly set his face toward 
the great fulfillment. " I come not to do mine 
own will but the will of him who sent me. ' ' He 
[31] 



The Quest of Life 

lived in a world where he had the sense of 
mission. 

He lived in a world where he could say to all 
the lives he met, ' ' I am among you as one who 
serves." He was ready and able to do good 
to every life that came within the length of 
his cable tow. It mattered not whether the 
life was rich or poor, cultured or simple, sin- 
ful or saintly, he was there as one who served. 
Out among the Gentiles it was not so. There 
the great ones exercised lordship and dominion. 
But in Christ's world, if any man would be 
great he must serve; and the greatest of all 
must be the servant of all. He once took a 
towel and girded himself that he might wash 
the disciples' feet. He prepared himself for 
that particular act of service. But the spirit of 
service he never put on because he never took 
it off — it was always there, as much a part 
of him as his own right hand. It was as much 
a part of his world as the power of gravitation. 
He took upon himself the form and the spirit 
of a servant becoming obedient to the exacting 
demands of an exalted usefulness. 

What a world for the Son of man to live in ! 
What a world for all the sons of men to live in ! 
Take those three sides of the triangle and think 
of what they enclose! The sense of divine 
companionship, the sense of mission, and the 
spirit of service! And this does not exhaust 
the content of the world where he dwelt. I 
have only pointed to the sun, the moon and one 
of the principal stars. If we should undertake 
[32] 



Where Do You Live? 

to indicate the entire glory of that world which 
he saw around him in the unrealized capacity 
of this human nature for spiritual advance and 
in the fullness of that divine help upon which 
he relied, we should need all the angels in 
heaven singing at once and all the wise men 
on earth speaking at once and every created 
thing become vocal to bring out the full content 
of that world which Jesus saw. He had no- 
where to lay his head, but he lived in a world 
of surpassing beauty and of glory unspeakable. 

Words fail us in the face of that prospect! 
It was because he felt himself unable to de- 
scribe what he saw and felt and enjoyed that 
Jesus said to his questioners, " Come and see." 
We can easily repeat those three sentences — 
" The Father is with me; I come to do the 
will of him who sent me; I am among you as 
one who serves ' ' — but if we would know the 
world to which they point we must live in it. 
We must climb its mountains of spiritual aspi- 
ration. We must traverse its valleys of spirit- 
ual peace. We must eat the ripe fruit which 
grows on the tree of life and drink the water 
which flows clear as crystal from the throne of 
God. Come and see! Then you will know! 
Live in the mood and after the method of 
Christ and you will know where he lived. 

How much of a world did his most illustrious 
disciple inhabit? " I am a citizen of no mean 
city," Paul said. Did he mean Tarsus? That 
was where he came from — ' l Saul of Tarsus. ' ' 
Yes, he meant Tarsus — his own Tarsus. There 
[33] 



The Quest of Life 

were as many different cities of Tarsus as there 
are cities of Chicago. There were thieves and 
harlots in Tarsus — Paul was not a citizen of 
their city. There were mean men in Tarsus, 
men who were unkindly and ungodly — Paul 
was not a citizen of their city. He was a citi- 
zen of his own Tarsus, and that city was not 
mean. 

His ultimate citizenship, however, was not 
in Tarsus but in a realm of moral purpose 
and spiritual ideals. " Our citizenship is in 
heaven." And that city of moral purpose and 
spiritual ideals to which he owed his final alle- 
giance is a city which can be set up anywhere, 
at Tarsus or Ephesus, in Corinth or in Rome, 
in New York or in Shanghai. And it is for 
every man to build for himself that city to 
which he gives his final allegiance. He frames 
it up out of the principles by which he lives, 
from the values upon which he sets his heart, 
from the realities to which he stands intimately 
related. And when that city is well built it is 
" no mean city," it matters not on what spot 
of earth it may happen to stand. 

The outward setting of any man's life is of 
small moment. When Oliver Goldsmith was 
so poor that he could scarcely get bread to put 
in his mouth he had a room below the level of 
the street. He was taunted with it on one occa- 
sion. Some brute said to him, " You lodge in 
a basement." Instantly came the stinging re- 
tort, " Your soul must lodge in a basement." 

You cannot tell where a man lodges by watch- 
[34] 



Where Do You Live? 

ing the outside of him. The body may be born 
in the manger of a stable. It may issue forth 
from some provincial town like Tarsus. It 
may see the day when it can afford no better 
place of residence than a basement. What of 
it? The inner life may, in the hour of its 
strength, stand forth like a king in his king- 
dom. The inner life may claim and hold its 
citizenship in heaven. The inner life may open 
its lips and make the world its debtor by the 
sweetness of its song. The question as to what 
place on the map you hail from does not in- 
terest me. I do not care whether you have two 
rooms in your house or twenty, or twice that. 
But where do you, as a child of the Eternal, 
find yourself at home? That question is 
fundamental. 

How splendid it is that it is always possible 
for us to move ! In this outer world it may not 
be so. You may not like the city you live in 
or the street you are on or the house you occupy, 
yet you may be powerless to change it. Your 
whole environment may be distasteful to you, 
but you are compelled to settle down and make 
the best of it. But when we come to the dwell- 
ing-place of that inner life we are all pilgrims 
and sojourners as our fathers were. We can 
always move. 

It may be done right here, without dust or 
noise. You need not send out for the furniture 
van. You can do it yourself by your own choice 
and resolve. If you have an uneasy feeling 
that the world you have been living in for 
[35] 



The Quest of Life 

months, for years it may be, has not the breadth 
or depth or height suitable for the residence 
and growth of a soul, then move. Move ont! 
Move up where you belong ! Move into a world 
where the best that is in you can stand up 
straight because the ceiling is high! Move 
where you can strike out and not come at once 
into contact with some restraining wall ! Move 
up where you can breathe your native air as a 
child of the Eternal. 

The world where the religious man lives is 
a large world, but the religious life is not easy. 
It is the most difficult life there is, and the 
most rewarding. There is an upper level of 
spiritual privilege which towers above the 
common grind as the Matterhorn towers above 
the valley of the Rhone. But to reach it in- 
volves a stiff climb. You can do it if you will. 
No weight of years or bodily infirmity need 
detain you here. No long remove from such 
vantage grounds as are found in the Alps, the 
Andes and the Sierras need hinder you — the 
path of spiritual ascent is not far from any one 
of us. 

But if you would go aloft you must go in 
marching order. Lay aside every weight. Lay 
aside the sin which doth so easily beset us. 
Strip off every evil purpose and intent, every 
shred of spite or bitterness or ill will. Then 
by your own personal faith, rope yourself in 
with the Guide and Helper of man's life, the 
Lord Jesus, and climb! And when you stand 
on that higher level breathing the air you were 
[36] 



Where Do You Live? 

meant to breathe and lifting your eyes to the 
heights whence cometh help, you can say to 
every man who asks your residence, " I live 
in a city that hath foundations, whose builder 
and maker is God." 



[37] 



Ill 

THE VISION OF GOD 



I have seen God.'* — Genesis xxxii, 30. 



Ill 

THE VISION OF GOD 

THIS is a tremendous statement! Who 
makes it? Some ripened saint dwelling 
apart from the world, unstained by its evil? 
Some wise philosopher long accustomed to 
think hard upon that which is fundamental and 
absolute? Some noble woman, with her keener 
spiritual intuitions, her moral nature alert and 
sensitive? Who is it that ventures upon this 
bold statement — " I have seen God! " 

It was none of these — it was a practical, 
hard-headed business man. You will easily re- 
call the scene described in that passage where 
the text stands. A man named Jacob had been 
wrestling all night at Jabbok Ford with a mys- 
terious antagonist. He was a man of affairs 
and practical to the thirty-third and last de- 
gree. He had been living with his feet and his 
eyes very much upon the ground. He had be- 
gun his career by trading off a cheap mess of 
pottage for a valuable birthright. He played a 
clever trick on his aged father to obtain a bless- 
ing which carried with it the rights of primo- 
geniture. He manipulated the flocks of his em- 
ployer Laban so skillfully that at the termina- 
[41] 



The Quest of Life 

tion of their contract Jacob had the larger part 
of the flocks and Laban a period of very in- 
structive experience. Jacob was nothing if not 
practical. And he had been so successful that 
now he was returning to his old home with oxen 
and asses, with flocks and herds, with manser- 
vants and maidservants, and a very great 
household. ' ' With my staff I passed over this 
Jordan and now I am become two bands." 
And this practical man of affairs stood there 
at daybreak saying, " I have seen God! " 

The place where he gained this vision is also 
suggestive. It was not in some noble temple 
where lofty arches, stained glass windows and 
religious music woo the mind into an attitude 
of reverence. It was not at some point of 
great natural beauty like Glacier Point in the 
Yosemite or Inspiration Point in the Yellow- 
stone, like Zermatt looking toward the Matter- 
horn, or Darjeeling facing upon the Himala- 
yas. In these situations the sheer magnificence 
of the outlook lifts the mind toward the Infinite. 
Jacob had his vision on the banks of an in- 
significant stream at a lonely spot called Jabbok 
Ford. The situation was entirely common- 
place — there was nothing in the setting to 
assist religious sentiment. Yet there on the 
dead level, with his flocks and his herds about 
him, this practical man felt moved to say, " I 
have seen God." 

His experience will be instructive to us. We 
live in an age intensely practical. We are 
occupied six days in the week, not to say seven, 
[42] 



The Vision of God 

thinking and talking about flocks and herds, 
mills and mines, farms and factories, stores and 
railroads. We are busied about things to eat, 
things to wear, and all the other things neces- 
sary for this elaborate life. Meditation, con- 
templation, adoration seem to be crowded out 
of many a heart. There is neither time, nor 
room, nor the mood to see God. The language 
of devotion is not the tongue in which we are 
born. We talk glibly about bargains, invest- 
ments and gains ; about matter, substance and 
energy ; but in the language of spiritual reality, 
we are awkward. If any man or woman should 
suddenly rise up and say, " I have seen God," 
it would sound queer and remote. It will be 
worth while then to ask how this man of affairs 
gained his vision of the divine. 

He saw God first of all in the retribution 
which was about to overtake his wrongdoing. 
Twenty odd years before he had cheated his 
brother. He had cheated him out of his birth- 
right and out of his blessing, with all the privi- 
leges which went with them. He had been com- 
pelled to leave home to escape the wrath of 
that brother whom he had wronged. He had 
prospered in Haran, for he had the Hebrew 
facility for getting on. He had made his 
" pile " and was now returning home with all 
his gains and blushing honors thick upon him. 

But when he drew near to the borders of 
Edom, where Esau lived, he recalled that old 
resentment and was afraid. He sent a con- 
ciliatory message to Esau, couching it in orien- 
[43] 



The Quest of Life 

tal phrase, demeaning himself and exalting the 
one he would appease. " Thy servant Jacob 
has tarried with Laban until now ; he has oxen 
and asses, flocks and herds, and he has sent to 
tell my lord, Esau, that he might find grace in 
his sight.' ' 

Jacob's messengers came back with the re- 
port that Esau had already taken the field. He 
was marching toward Jacob with four hundred 
armed Bedouins. Then Jacob was greatly dis- 
tressed. He divided his flocks and his herds 
into two bands so that if one was attacked the 
other might escape. He selected a present of 
camels and cows, of sheep and goats, and sent 
it ahead to Esau, hoping to buy off his wrath. 
Then, having taken every precaution possible 
and feeling how inadequate it all was, he fell 
down and prayed. " O God of my fathers, 
God of Abraham and God of Isaac, I am not 
worthy of the least of all Thy mercies. With 
my staff I passed over this Jordan and now 
I am become two bands. But deliver me I 
pray Thee from the hand of Esau, lest he smite 
me and the mother with the children. ' ' In that 
approaching retribution, which he knew he 
richly deserved, he saw the hand of God. 

When you suffer because you have done 
wrong, rejoice in that fact. It shows that you 
are still alive; you can suffer as you would 
not if you were morally dead. When retri- 
bution overtakes you because of some wrong- 
doing, give thanks. It shows that there is 
a God in Israel who regards you as worth 
[44] 



The Vision of God 

saving. He is rebuking and correcting you 
that he may bring you into right relations with 
himself. 

The great moral order is not far from any 
one of us. It is not indifferent to any one of 
us for an hour. The dark cloud of retribution 
approaching because of some sin is an indica- 
tion that the God of righteousness takes 
thought for the deeper interests of every life. 
The solemn fact, that " the way of the trans- 
gressor is hard," standing unaltered either by 
the Revised Version or the Higher Criticism, 
is a steady testimony to the truth that God is 
with us and for us, arraying himself against 
the evil which would harm our lives. When he 
smites you because you have done wrong, look 
up as Jacob did and say, " I have seen God." 
You will see him in that very opposition which 
evildoing encounters. 

If any man could succeed permanently in 
escaping the consequences of his own wrong- 
doing, it might go far toward making him an 
atheist. He might say, as the wicked man said 
in the Psalm, " Does God know? Is there 
knowledge with the Most High? Where now 
is thy God? " If in any quarter wickedness 
should succeed in permanently defying the 
moral order, then God would cease to be God 
in that realm. ' ' Be sure your sin will find you 
out," in some form of penalty. What a man 
sows, he reaps. Sometimes the harvest comes 
in four months, sometimes in four years, some- 
times in forty years. It always comes. Know 
[45] 



The Quest of Life 

that God will bring into judgment all these 
things, whether they be good or bad. If human 
experience, taking it by and large, has taught 
us anything, it has taught us that. And in the 
very opposition which evil encounters, sooner 
or later, clear-eyed men see the hand and the 
love of God. 

It was his profound faith in an abiding moral 
order where God lives and reigns, which caused 
Abraham Lincoln to say in one of the dark 
hours of the Civil War, " Fondly do we trust 
and fervently do we pray that this war may 
cease. But if it should be decreed that all the 
treasure accumulated by the unrequited toil of 
the bondman should be sunk and that every 
drop of blood drawn by the lash should be paid 
by another drop of blood drawn by the sword, 
even then we would still be moved to say, as it 
was said three thousand years ago, ' Thy 
judgments, God, are true and righteous alto- 
gether. ' " We incurred that fearful loss of 
treasure, of blood and of national prestige, 
because we had done wrong. And in all that 
fiery penalty and discipline through which this 
nation passed in wiping out the sin of slavery, 
men of insight saw the hand of the Almighty. 

Take it in an individual case: Here is a 
man entirely absorbed in making money! He 
has allowed money to become, not a useful and 
obedient servant, but an imperious master. He 
has reached the point where he eats and drinks, 
thinks and plans, dreams and lives in terms of 
material gain. He need not be surprised if 
[46] 



The Vision of God 

certain hard lines appear in his face, marring 
the gentler look of sympathy and kindliness 
once there. He may find himself becoming in- 
different to the interests of weaker men whose 
hopes are crushed by those commercial ener- 
gies which he has helped to create. The human 
values at stake in this huge business of pro- 
duction, transportation and exchange may be 
utterly obscured by the financial values which 
to him seem all-important. 

He need not be surprised if the standards of 
his home are materialized until the old inter- 
ests of worship, aspiration and Christian ser- 
vice fade out. His own sons may shame him 
and wring his heart by their utter lack of those 
finer qualities which he manifested at their age. 
When he sees this process of judgment in 
operation, let him know that God does not leave 
himself without witness anywhere. There is 
a God in Israel and in New York, who does 
not allow a soul to go down in ultimate spirit- 
ual defeat without repeated warnings. Watch 
for them, as Jacob watched that night for the 
approaching Bedouins ! And when you see that 
inevitable opposition to your own mistaken 
course of action say, as Jacob did, " I have 
seen God." 

In the second place, Jacob looked into the 
depths of his own soul and saw there the spirit 
of God prompting him to seek moral renewal. 
He felt that night that his name was wrong — 
it meant ' ' Supplanter ' ' ; it told the ugly story 
of his life. He felt that his nature was wrong 
[47] 



The Quest of Life 

— it was mean, tricky and selfish. He had been 
ready to purchase material prosperity at the 
cost of any moral scruple which might stand 
in the way. He had been ignoring the interests 
of those other lives which were sacrificed to his 
advantage. He felt that his purposes were 
wrong — he was trying to buy off his brother's 
anger with a present of camels and cows, when 
he should have been on his knees before God 
confessing his sins and on his knees before his 
brother imploring forgiveness. He was wrong 
all the way up, all the way down, all the way 
in. And there in the darkness of that night, as 
he struggled with his mysterious antagonist, 
we hear .him say, " I will not let Thee go 
except Thou bless me." In his own sense of 
the need of moral renewal, he felt the disturb- 
ing presence of God. 

" Blessed are they that hunger and thirst 
after righteousness " — happy is their condi- 
tion! God is working in them to will and to 
accomplish his good pleasure. Blessed is the 
man whose soul is athirst for God, for the 
living God, yearning after a satisfying sense 
of fellowship with the Unseen! Happy is his 
lot, for God is manifesting himself to that man. 
The Lord has made us for himself and our 
hearts are restless till they rest in him. The 
divine spirit goeth where he listeth, awakening 
appetite for the bread of life as well as supply- 
ing it to need already conscious. When any 
man feels a profound discontent with his own 
inmost life, let him rejoice. If he will look 
[48] 



T.he Vision of God 

deeply into that yearning which will not down, 
he will be moved to say, " I see God face to 
face. ' ' 

When the missionary goes to the darkest 
section of Africa, he finds the black people 
happy and contented. They show a larger 
measure of content than the people he left be- 
hind him in America. They are naked, they 
are ignorant, they are superstitions, they are 
immoral, but they are as contented as trees. 

He begins to teach them and to preach to 
them. Then they begin to develop discontent. 
The black man, like the Prodigal Son in the 
far country, begins to be in want. He wants 
a shirt, for he feels an awakening sense of 
modesty in the presence of these white people. 
He wants a book, for his mind has been aroused 
and he desires to learn. His heart is possessed 
by finer affections and he wants a home — he is 
not content to live in the open, or in some rude 
corral; he wants decent appointments for his 
family life. Then his awakened soul turns from 
the ugly fetich he has been worshiping and he 
wants God. The whole story of his advance is 
a story of unfolding need. When he looks back 
over that period when he began to be in want, 
he interprets it as Jacob did. He attributes his 
own awakened aspiration to the presence of the 
divine spirit in his life. 

May we not interpret the moods of our own 

day in this same manner? Has there ever been 

a time in the history of the world when there 

was so much wealth and so much pessimism 

[49] 



The Quest of Life 

in the very nations which possess the largest 
portion of the wealth? Has there ever been a 
time when there were so many opportunities 
for pleasure and so many sad-eyed, heavy- 
hearted people? And the source of this pessi- 
mism and discontent is not in the surround- 
ings, nor in the possessions of these people — 
it is in themselves. They need to be changed. 
They need to learn that a man's life does not 
consist in the abundance of the things that he 
can buy. 

The Lord of life enters these troubled, fretted 
souls, that they may have life more abundantly. 
He makes them conscious, through their own 
unrest, of their need of inward renewal. The 
old doctrine of conviction of sin was not 
preached more solemnly by Jonathan Edwards 
than it is being preached to-day by men of 
strange lips and with another tongue. Thomas 
Hardy and Israel Zangwill, Henrik Ibsen and 
Bernard Shaw are preaching, in words that 
burn, the need of inward renewal. They seem 
unable to point the way of regeneration, but 
they make clear the fact that spiritual renewal 
is needed on the Avenue as much as in the 
slums. 

Pitch your tent some night at Jabbok Ford 
and in the quiet of that hour take stock. Turn 
your eyes away from the flocks and herds, away 
from the stocks and the bonds, and count up 
your inward possessions. Ask your mind where 
it goes most easily and readily, when it is re- 
leased from the things it must do, and is free 
[50] 



The Vision of God 

to go where it will. Ask your heart what are 
its prevailing moods, when it is alone and un- 
hindered. Ask your soul how far faith and 
hope and love are vital energies within you. 
Ask what sort of grip you have on those un- 
seen verities which alone may be trusted to 
maintain us in the full zest and relish of life 
when the evil days come. Take stock of those 
values which are inward and spiritual! 

When you have done that with unsparing 
candor and thoroughness, it may be that some 
of you will feel as Jacob did, that all these 
flocks and herds, all these outward possessions 
and successes are at the mercy of the Bedouins, 
who may be even now projecting an attack. If 
you have not been laying up treasure beyond 
the reach of moth and rust, beyond the reach 
of disease and death, you will feel in that hour 
as helpless as this man of old. And if you look 
deeply into that discontent you will find there 
the presence of the same divine spirit, disclos- 
ing to you your own spiritual poverty. When 
any man faces his inmost need in that serious 
mood, he is moved to say, " I have seen God." 

Finally, in that grave hour, Jacob saw the 
One who could work that change. Early in the 
evening he felt that he had only Esau and his 
Bedouins to reckon with. He felt that in some 
way he might appease their wrath, or ward 
off their attack. But as the night wore on he 
felt that by his course of selfishness and dis- 
honesty he had been defying the whole unseen 
world. He had been pitting his puny strength 
[51] 



The Quest of Life 

and cunning against the whole moral order. 
He had been putting up his arms to fight the 
Almighty. Now that opposition stood athwart 
his path like a physical antagonist. He wres- 
tled with it all night long until the breaking 
of the day. 

But as the hours passed that mysterious 
presence in the dark became not a mere anta- 
gonist opposing his evil course. Jacob felt that 
he was dealing with One who sympathized with 
his need of a new nature. He felt that he was 
looking into the face of One who could accom- 
plish that high end. We hear him say in his 
moral stress, " Tell me Thy name." He would 
not allow that experience to pass until he had 
discovered its deeper meaning. He would not 
let that Presence go until he had been blessed. 
He had stolen a blessing in early life which 
had profited him little. Now he will gain a 
higher form of blessing by the might of a new 
purpose, by the consecration of his powers to 
nobler ends. 

He did not let that Presence go until it had 
blessed him. When the day dawned he felt 
a strange joy in the new life within his soul. 
He called the name of the place " Peniel, the 
face of God," for he said, " I have seen God 
face to face, and my life is preserved." 

He wrestled all night with the treachery and 
meanness of his own heart. He wrestled with 
the evil impulses he was trying to cast out. He 
wrestled with that mysterious antagonist who 
sets himself in opposition to every evil way. 
[52] 



The Vision of God 

But still more, he wrestled with that spirit of 
grace which is ever at hand to lift off the sense 
of guilt, to renew the springs of action and to 
change the inner life. And when Jacob became 
conscious of this contact between his own finite 
spirit and the Infinite Spirit of grace he felt 
that he had seen God face to face. 

One of the widely read religious books in the 
last decade was " Varieties of Religious Ex- 
perience,' ' by William James. His main con- 
tention was that when men are honest with 
themselves, they discover that there is some- 
thing wrong in their inner lives. They discover 
further that this wrong can only be righted by 
making new and more satisfactory adjustments 
to the higher powers. In a word, the phil- 
osopher insisted that peace comes only as we 
grasp the Unseen One who opposes our wrong- 
doing and makes us conscious of our need of 
renewal, saying, " We will not let Thee go 
except Thou bless us. ,, The serious man dis- 
covers God in those profounder phases of his 
own inner life. He there finds the One who is 
altogether righteous, the One who alone can 
righten us. 

"Lord: 
Make me to hear clearly one thing, 

Thy Voice, 
And hearing, to follow, respond, 

And rejoice. 
Make me to see clearly one thing, 

Thy Way, 
And seeing to walk at Thy hand 

Day by day. 

[53] 



The Quest of Life 

Help me to seek only one thing, 

Thy Face, 
And seeking, Thyself to reflect 

Through Thy Grace." 

The modern man's vision of God comes 
mainly in terms of spiritual process. He does 
not think of God as a majestic figure like the 
Statue of Liberty seated on his great white 
throne. He does not think of God as an Infinite 
Being dwelling somewhere apart from this life 
of earth, directing it by a system of wireless 
communications. He thinks of God as the in- 
dwelling, sustaining, directing presence, in all 
these processes, visible and invisible, which 
make up the universe. He feels that God is 
to be known and enjoyed mainly as we touch 
the deeper levels of human experience. 

He is " the living God." He lives a real 
life, a striving, militant, conquering life. He 
faces the evil of the world consequent upon the 
wrong exercise of human freedom and fights 
against it. He finds himself thwarted in his 
plans by the unresponsiveness of this human 
material. He seems at times to be baffled by the 
perversity of the human will, but the struggle 
goes on. He bides his time and devises fresh 
ways of resisting the sin of the race, looking 
always toward moral victory. The struggle 
costs him pain — our doctrine of atonement 
tells us that. He comes blood-stained from 
Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah. There 
is an eternal heartache and heartbreak over the 
sin of the world. When any man recognizing 
[54] 



The Vision of God 

the deeper meaning of this everlasting struggle 
between light and darkness, between good and 
evil, enlists in this struggle himself, he enters 
at once into fellowship and cooperation with 
that living God. He rises to that level of ex- 
perience where he sees God face to face. , 

Rejoice that his dwelling-place and your 
dwelling-place are not apart. " In him we 
live and move and have our being.' ' In us he 
lives and moves, accomplishing his purposes 
and achieving the joy of fatherhood. Bravely 
and gladly accept that community of interest 
which belongs to the life of the child and the 
life of the Father, as they find themselves in 
joyous accord. Call the name of the place where 
you enter into that experience " Peniel. ,> 
When in the presence of evil you feel the re- 
straining hand of the moral sense, when you 
feel a discontent prompting you to seek spirit- 
ual renewal, and when you find yourself 
ennobled by your fellowship with the Eternal, 
you will rejoice in that you have seen God and 
your life is preserved. 



[55] 



IV 

THE CITY THAT LIETH FOUR 
SQUARE 



" On the east three gates, on the north three gates, 
on the south three gates, on the west three gates/' — 
Kevelation xxi, 13. 



IV 

THE CITY THAT LIETH FOUE 
SQUARE 

THE kingdom of God is pictured as a mag- 
nificent city. It has " walls great and 
high." " The kings of the earth," the ruling 
forces of human society l ' bring their glory and 
their honor into it." It has broad streets, and 
through one of them flows " the river of the 
water of life, clear as crystal." There are 
trees growing on either side of the river, bear- 
ing their ripe fruit every month, and with 
leaves for the healing of the people. The men 
who live in this city walk and work in the light 
of God's presence. In all that they do " they 
serve Him day and night." " His name is 
written in their foreheads;" their very faces 
reflect the character of the One they serve. 
They rejoice that " their names are written in 
the Lamb's book of life;" they are registered 
citizens in an everlasting kingdom. And the 
whole life of the place is so filled with the glory 
of God as to make it shine like a cluster of 
jewels. 

And it is such an accessible place, this king- 
dom of God! Three gates open day and night, 
[59] 



The Quest of Life 

on every side! " On the east three gates; on 
the north three gates; on the south three gates; 
and on the west three gates/ ' It faces every 
way. It has three gates fronting squarely on 
every conceivable human interest and on every 
style of temperament. If a man stands on the 
north side he need not make his way around 
to some other side of the city to enter. He 
need not wait to get some other man's point 
of view. He need not delay until he expe- 
riences the particular emotional reactions which 
some other man enjoyed. If he will only stand 
up where he finds himself, put evil behind him 
and face toward the light, he may, by moving 
straight ahead, enter into the kingdom of God. 
He will find a path as plain as a pikestaff lead- 
ing straight into the love and service of the 
Most High. 

This many-sided city is a picture of the mani- 
fold expressions of God's moral interest in 
men. It is a picture of the varied provisions 
made for divers lines of approach to the Chris- 
tian life. The gateways of the kingdom open 
in all directions that they may serve the vary- 
ing needs of men. 

We are not all required to enter the Christian 
life in exactly the same way. We could not if 
we would. It has not pleased the Almighty to 
make human beings like clothespins, to be 
counted off by the gross and packed in bunches. 
There is never a soul in all the earth which is 
the exact counterpart of any other soul. We 
do find twins, physically speaking, but they are 
[60] 



City That Lieth Four Square 

never alike in temperament and disposition. 
Esau and Jacob were twins, but they were as 
unlike as William H. Taf t and Theodore Roose- 
velt. Every human soul possesses its own 
individuality. This endless variety makes it 
necessary that the lines of approach to the 
deepest things in life should be many and 
varied. " On the east three gates; on the 
north three gates; on the south three gates; 
and on the west three gates." 

Let us think of what those gates signify! 
We will look first at the east gates. The east 
is where we watch for the sunrise — the day 
begins there. It is the realm of beginnings. 
It is the home of that which is new, fresh, 
unworn. In a word, the three gates on the east 
front upon the childhood of the race. 

Above each one you find a text inscribed, a 
veritable word of the Lord. Over the first, 
" He took a child and set him in the midst." 
Over, the second, " Suffer the little children to 
come unto me, and forbid them not for of such 
is the kingdom of heaven.' ' Over the third, 
1 ' A little child shall lead them. ' ' The kingdom 
of God is easily and readily accessible to the 
boys and girls. The parents and the teachers 
of the world rejoice when they see those three 
gates opened ever toward the east. 

This fact has an important bearing on the 
great interest of Christian nurture. We are 
sometimes asked if it is necessary for children 
reared in Christian homes to be converted. It 
certainly is, — every one must be converted in 
[61] 



The Quest of Life 

order to enter the kingdom of God. And for 
such a child conversion means the conscious, 
deliberate acceptance for himself of that mode 
of life to which he has been reared. When his 
attitude toward Christ is no longer mere cus- 
tom or habit into which he has been led by 
those who love him, but his own glad, voluntary 
choice as well, then that new attitude consti- 
tutes his conversion. It is the conscious turning 
of the soul toward the mercy and the service 
of God. The coming of that conscious per- 
sonal decision may occupy a few vital moments 
in some spiritual crisis in the child 's life or it 
may stretch through months or years of growth. 
It matters not — whenever the voluntary turn- 
ing of the soul to God and the joyous accep- 
tance of his service as the highest mode of life 
arrive the child enters through his own gate 
into the city. 

Have our friends, the Eoman Catholics, built 
those east gates more solidly and more wisely 
than have their Protestant neighbors 1 We feel 
that the content of Christian faith and life, as 
they present it, is faulty, but they have been 
wise beyond a peradventure in keeping those 
east gates open for the children day and night. 
The Eoman Church owes a large part of its 
influence to the clear, strong emphasis it has 
placed on the work of Christian nurture. 

The wise minister of Christ spends much of 

his time and thought and love on the east side 

of the kingdom. He goes out to greet the boys 

and girls, the young men and maidens, as they 

[62] 



City That Lieth Four Square 

come up from the land of the sunrise in all 
the fresh vigor of their youth. He keeps him- 
self in sympathetic touch with their moods and 
needs. If he can make the Christian life seem 
real and true, with never a note that is forced 
or artificial or perfunctory in his presentation 
of it, he will win them. We are just scratching 
the surface of the possibilities to be revealed 
when we enter into the full meaning of these 
better methods of religious education and of 
Christian nurture. When we have learned how 
to face youth aright with the fullness of the 
Christian message, those three gates on the 
east will be thronged with boys and girls, 
bringing their unwearied energy into the life 
of the kingdom. 

"And on the south three gates! " The 
south is the place of warmth. It is the realm 
of feeling. The men of the north, the Scotch, 
the Scandinavians, the Eussians, never show 
that warmth of feeling found among the Span- 
iards, the Italians, and the Greeks. Here at 
home the people of the South, white and black, 
possess a fervor in their sympathies, in their 
sentiments and in their enthusiasms which 
Northern people lack. If we go farther into 
the tropics this warmth of feeling, when it has 
not been mastered by intelligence and moral 
purpose, becomes a serious problem. But there, 
fronting upon that sunnier side of human 
nature, is the southern exposure of this four- 
square city, with three gates inviting warm- 
hearted men and women into the love and 
[63] 



The Quest of Life 

service of God. Over the first is written, " Out 
of the heart are the issues of life." Over the 
second, " With the heart man believeth unto 
righteousness. ' ' Over the third, " My heart 
and my flesh cry out for the living God." 

This element in human nature has been oft 
abused. There are men and women who live 
in a chronic state of religious excitement, in 
a perfect whirl of emotional fervor, yet their 
moral perceptions are frequently confused. 
They make us feel poverty-stricken when it 
comes to a show of feeling, yet they are not 
always able to tell the truth or to show them,- 
selves quite honest in money matters. We 
would not call them liars and thieves, but their 
ethical sense is surely overborne by this excess 
of emotion. 

Sometimes these highly colored tempera- 
ments undertake to lord it over the rest of us 
who live in the temperate zones — the great 
temperate zones, which, after all, transact the 
serious business of life, for neither the tropics 
nor the arctics have written the most important 
pages in the history of the race. These ardent 
natures, capable of profound dejection on ac- 
count of their sins, and capable of correspond- 
ing elation over their sense of deliverance, 
sometimes speak slightingly of the experience 
of those who, in less striking ways, find their 
entrance into the kingdom of God. They may 
almost shut the door in the faces of those who 
make their approach to the Christian life with- 
out a proper show of feeling. 
[64] 



City That Lieth Four Square 

All this I know well, but still the heart has 
its rights. Where feeling is officered by in- 
telligence and turned into channels of useful 
service, the more feeling the better. We can- 
not have too much of it. Would that we might 
stir men more deeply with a feeling of the 
awfulness of doing wrong in the sight of him 
who loves us! Would that we felt more pro- 
foundly the meanness of insulting God's pur- 
pose for us, by open defiance or by flat indif- 
ference! Would that we all might experience 
more deeply the everlasting joy of entering 
into conscious fellowship with our Maker for 
the accomplishment of high ends ! Would that 
we all might rise to the peace and serenity 
which possess the life hid with Christ in 
God! 

This is not logic; it is not ethics; it is not 
philosophy; it is religious feeling. We are 
here indicating phases of personal experience 
in the deep things of God. Would that we had 
tenfold more of it in all our churches! Out 
of the heart, out of the hopes and fears, out 
of the sentiments and devotions, out of the 
aspirations and enthusiasms, come the mighty 
issues of life. And there are three gates on 
the south side of the city to welcome these 
generous impulses into the life of the kingdom. 

It seems clear that our Methodist friends 
have surpassed us in this form of religious 
culture. The average congregation of Metho- 
dists will sing a hymn more effectively than 
would a similar number of Congregationalists. 
[65] 



The Quest of Life 

They sing better, not because they are better 
musicians, but because they have more reli- 
gious feeling. They are steadily adding to 
their stock of religious feeling by their ready 
participation in Christian song. 

Matthew Arnold said, " Eeligion is morality 
touched with emotion." He touched lightly 
upon a vital truth. When any moral principle 
is caught and held within the grip of those 
mighty sentiments, awakened by a direct vision 
of the eternal verities, giving more august 
sanction to the right and uttering more terrible 
warning against the wrong, the strength of that 
principle is multiplied by ten. When the 
righteous man is made conscious of his coopera- 
tion with the will of God, his own purposes are 
mightily reenforced. He rises by faith and by 
feeling into a sense of participation in a vaster 
and more enduring moral enterprize. And 
ample provision is made for those deeper emo- 
tions of life by three gates opening toward the 
south. 

" And on the north three gates." These 
gates front upon a colder quarter. They open 
toward a region of cool intelligence. The im- 
pulses of hope and belief are carefully scru- 
tinized. The philosophies of life are here 
definitely wrought out. The singing may be 
less hearty; the exhortations are not so loud; 
the flags which fly have less color in them, and 
the drums may not beat. But withal, it is a 
region where a deal of quiet, serious, honest 
thinking takes place. It is a section of human 
166] 



City That Lieth Four Square 

experience not to be lightly esteemed; it has 
its own intrinsic moral worth. Facing upon 
it there are three gates. Over the first is 
written, " The fear of the Lord is the begin- 
ning of wisdom.' ' Over the second, ( 'I am 
the truth, and ye shall know the truth and the 
truth shall make you free." Over the third, 
" Study to show thyself approved unto God.'" 

The great majestic order where we stand is 
grounded in reason. Every added century 
deepens man's confidence in this fundamental 
affirmation. The only life which can justify 
itself is the life become rational and righteous. 
Fellowship between the finite spirit and the 
Infinite Spirit is natural and imperative, where 
men order their lives in the light of the Su- 
preme Intelligence. It was this clear fact 
which led President Eliot to say to the boys at 
Harvard, " Prayer is the transcendent act of 
human intelligence." The greatest thing that 
any mind ever does is to pray. 

Gird up the loins of your mind, and think 
seriously upon the fundamentals, the being of 
God and the fact of duty, the high privilege 
of prayer and the moral achievements of re- 
demption, the hope of a future life and the 
certainty of a final judgment ! You were meant 
to know these things. 

" Come now, let us reason together, saith 
the Lord! " The Almighty himself stands at 
the north gate inviting us to match up our 
conceptions as to the meaning and value of 
human existence with his. He invites us to 
[67] 



The Quest of Life 

hold high conference with him, touching the 
august interests of life. Our ways may not 
be his ways, nor our thoughts his thoughts, 
but this lack of agreement is not meant to be 
permanent. It is to be the unending effort of 
moral aspiration to achieve harmony between 
our human thought and the divine purpose. 
We are to strive for the sense of agreement 
between our ways and his ways. It is neither 
presumptuous nor futile to make this high at- 
tempt, for on the north there are three gates 
inviting the ripest judgment of the human mind 
into the love and service of God. ] 

It may be that as Congregationalists we 
have made our best showing on this side of 
the city that lieth four square. We have not 
been lacking in the power of direct appeal, for 
three of the greatest evangelists America has 
produced, Jonathan Edwards, Charles G. 
Finney, and Dwight L. Moody, were all of them 
Congregationalists. But we have given the 
larger part of our strength to the work of 
instruction and persuasion. 

We have entrusted our interests, for the 
most part, to the slow, irresistible processes 
of education. How many Christian colleges 
have been founded by the people of our faith 
and order! Harvard and Yale, Williams and 
Dartmouth, Amherst and Bowdoin, Oberlin and 
Beloit, Grinnell and Whitman, Wellesley and 
Smith, Mount Holyoke and Mills with a score 
of other similar institutions. They were all 
founded by Congregationalists ! We have made 

[68] 



City That Lieth Four Square 

our main approach to the inner life with the 
reasonableness and the winsomeness of the 
truth. 

If we should fail to make as strong an appeal 
to the emotional life as do some of our fellow- 
Christians; if we should not impress men 
equally from the aesthetic side by noble archi- 
tecture and stately ritual; if we should lack 
something of the strength which belongs to 
close-knit and highly organized polity, we 
might still find ourselves useful in presenting 
clearly and cogently the august claims of the 
truth. And fronting upon the north, the region 
of calm and cool reflection, there are three gates 
to welcome thoughtful souls who wait there into 
the life of aspiration and service. 

" And on the west three gates.' ' These 
gates front toward the sunset. When we look 
that way we see that it is toward evening, and 
the day is far spent. The fresh, uncertain 
promise of childhood has ripened into some 
sort of fact. The heat and burden of the day 
has been borne and night is coming on when 
the stars will shine. 

* It is the side of life which all men and women 
regard more seriously when they find them- 
selves growing old. They are thinking of the 
time when their work will be done and they 
will be ready for the rest which remains for 
the people of God. Here, as elsewhere, there 
are three gates — the kingdom of God, with all 
its hopes and helps, is still accessible. Over 
the first gate is written, " At evening it shall 
[69] 



The Quest of Life 

be light." Over the second, " The hoary head 
is a crown of glory if it be found in the way 
of righteousness." Over the third, " He that 
endureth to the end shall be saved." And 
through these wide gates men who have walked 
and worked for many years are entering with 
joy into the kingdom. 

Some of you have lived longer than I have. 
You have walked farther, you have seen more, 
you have suffered what I have not. The colors 
which your youthful associates once knew are 
fading out of the hair, the cheek, and the beard. 
The fire in your eye burns low and more softly. 
In the nature of things it may not be long until 
you will hear the sunset gun. But I have it 
upon the word of Jesus Christ — and whose 
word would you rather trust than his ? — that 
no matter how long or how joyously you have 
lived, there is before you, if you will have it 
so, an eternity of high privilege. In the face 
of such a possibility, there can be no more 
serious obligation than to set one's house in 
order, to adjust one's aspirations to the high- 
est ideals in sight, and to lay hold confidently 
upon those sources of divine help which men 
have tried and found good. 

I lived for many years beside the Golden 
Gate in California. It opens toward the west. 
I have seen the sun set in it a hundred times. 
I have seen the great ships, the Manchuria, 
the Mongolia, the Siberia, the Korea — 
the very names of them indicative of our 
points of contact beyond that widest sea — 
[70] 



City That Lieth Four Square 

sailing in and out through that Golden Gate 
on their way to and from the harbors which 
lie on the other side of the globe. And I used 
to think of those three gates into the kingdom 
of God which open toward the west. The affec- 
tionate interest of the Saviour of men looks 
out through each one of those gates upon lives 
grown mature without having entered openly 
into his service. Those men need to come in. 
They need him. If they would come in they 
would feel secure when the hour comes for them 
to set forth upon that wide sea which men 
cross in only one direction — they would be 
safe with him as the captain and pilot of their 
souls. 

" Sunset and evening star, 
And one clear call for me! 
And may there be no moaning of the bar, 
When I put out to sea, 

" But such a tide as moving seems asleep, 
Too full for sound and foam, 
When that which drew from out the boundless deep 
Turns again home. 

" Twilight and evening bell, 
And after that the dark! 
And may there be no sadness of farewell 
When I embark. 

" For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place 
The flood may bear me far, 
I hope to see my Pilot face to face 
When I have crossed the bar." 



1 ' On the west three gates ' ' — three Golden 
Gates ! 

[71] 



The Quest of Life 

The paths of approach, the modes of access 
to this new life in Christ are many and varied. 
The gates of entrance are widely distributed to 
meet the needs of people varying in tempera- 
ment, in point of view and in experience. You 
need not box the compass in order to find the 
particular gate where some other man entered 
into Christian life. You need not travel around 
three sides of the city to find the place where 
John Bunyan, or some other illustrious saint, 
went in. You may begin now, right where you 
stand. Put behind you every purpose incon- 
sistent with the Christian life — that is re- 
pentance! Accept gladly the forgiveness of 
God offered in Christ for the wrong you have 
done — that is faith! Then go forward along 
the line of that new purpose in fellowship with 
him — that is life, which is life indeed! The 
moment you do that you will see straight ahead 
of you a gate wide open into the city of God. 

How rich and how varied are the appeals 
which God makes to men ! How wonderful his 
love and his interest in all his children! We 
have narrowed it by our petty definitions and 
by our sectarian approaches. The city of God 
is large enough to contain all the children of 
God, and the modes of entrance are as varied 
as their differing needs. 

The light of heaven, as it streams from the 
sun, is one white light. At the first glance it 
seems colorless. We do not suspect its rich 
and manifold content until we pass a ray of it 
through a prism and spread it on the screen in 
[72] 



City That Lieth Four Square 

a dark room. Then we behold all the colors 
of the rainbow in that one ray of white light. 

But the flowers knew. They grew together 
on the bosom of mother earth; they all blos- 
somed in the white light of heaven. Yet the 
roses are red, the violets blue, the buttercups 
yellow. Each bud selects out of that white light 
of heaven its own particular shade and repro- 
duces it in terms of its own individual beauty. 
So the pure, warm love of God shines from the 
skies upon all the children of men. Let each 
man respond in his own way, taking his own 
particular color in the pattern and making his 
own contribution to that garment of righteous- 
ness which shall enfold and adorn the race. 



[73] 



V 
THE POWER OF REQUEST 



"If thou knewest . . . thou wouldst ash . . . and 
he would give." — John iv, 10. 



THE POWER OF REQUEST 

YOU could hardly call it a promising situa- 
tion. The two principal figures in the 
scene stood too far apart. He was a man, she 
was a woman — and in the Orient that means a 
gulf fixed. His disciples marveled that he 
talked with a woman in a public place. He was 
a Jew, she was a Samaritan — and the Jews 
had no dealings with the Samaritans. Race 
prejudice and religious bigotry had dug a yet 
deeper gulf. He was the sinless Son of God, 
she was a woman openly immoral, living at 
that hour with a man who was not her hus- 
band. Her own wrongdoing had widened that 
gulf into a chasm of separation. 

The only thing they seemed to have in 
common was the fact that they were both 
thirsty. The Master began on that narrow bit 
of common ground. When he saw the woman 
filling her water-pot he said to her courteously, 
* l Give me a drink. ' ' 

She instantly twitted him with the fact that 
his necessities prompted him to do an unheard- 
of thing. " How is it, a Jew asking for a 
drink from a woman of Samaria? The Jews 
[77] 



The Quest of Life 

have no dealings with the Samaritans.' ' And 
as the conversation proceeds she is full of 
banter and argument. You are pained to see 
that she does not appreciate her opportunity. 
There she was — in the presence of the Lord 
Jesus Christ! She could look into his face; 
she could hear his voice; she could feel the 
power of his moral interest; she could enter 
into personal conference with that august 
soul. It was the chance of a lifetime; it was 
one of the greatest opportunities in twenty 
centuries of human experience. Yet she wastes 
her time and his in useless banter. 

How dreadful to have an opportunity like 
that and not recognize the value of it! He 
spoke to her about " living " water and she 
thought he was talking about some well nearer 
to her wretched home so that she would not 
need to come all the way hither to draw. He 
uncovered the moral disgrace of her own life 
by that searching question about a ' ' husband, ' ' 
and she thinks he is a kind of a fortune-teller, 
one who might tell her all the things she ever 
did. He spoke to her about worshiping God 
" in spirit and in truth," an inward and a 
genuine worship, and she burst out with her 
silly question as to whether men ought to wor- 
ship in this mountain or at some other moun- 
tain or in Jerusalem. She constantly met his 
sympathetic interest in her life with a kind of 
rude joking. And Jesus, moved by the pathos 
of her indifference to the higher values at 
stake in that interview, said to her sadly, " If 
[78] 



The Power of Request 

thou knewest who it is that saith unto thee 
* give me to drink ' thou wouldst ask of Him 
and He would give thee living water.' ' If 
thou knewest, thou wouldst ask ; and he would 
give! 

How many times this scene at Jacob's well 
is reenacted! You seek to bring some fellow- 
mortal into the presence of the mighty truths 
of religion and he has nothing to offer but ban- 
ter and quibble. You mention the Bible and he 
perpetrates some feeble joke about Jonah and 
the whale. You mention the Church and his 
mind is off like a rat to bring out some story 
of an untrustworthy deacon. You strive to 
show him the well that is deep and he jumps up 
and down in the puddles of his own shallow 
conceit trying to splash your honest interest 
with mud. One would suppose that his inward 
thirst, his sense of unrest and destitution, his 
longing for something better than the impover- 
ished quality of life he shows, would prompt 
him to seek that living water. It is not so. 
You have seen men on the road to Emmaus, 
and when a mysterious figure joined them, 
walked with them, talked with them, caused 
their hearts to burn within them by his finer 
interpretation of human experience, their eyes 
were holden. They did not know him. They 
allowed the opportunity to pass without having 
made itself known to them in the breaking of 
such bread as they had never eaten in all their 
lives. 

What a picture of the whole sad tragedy 
[79] 



The Quest of Life 

enacted every day in the year! Here are men 
and women who allow opportunities, sublime in 
their ultimate possibilities, to come within arm's 
length only to let them slip by without having 
yielded their help! There is a tide in the 
affairs of men. There is ebb and flow in the 
world of moral forces as well as in the mighty 
ocean. 

" There is a tide in the affairs of men, 
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; 
Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
Is bound in shallows, and in miseries. 
. . . We must take the current when it serves, 
Or lose our venture." 

Here, in some moment of high spiritual privi- 
lege, comes the best moment thus far in all 
your life. If you know, you will ask; and he 
will give. 

While the congregation was singing the hymn 
— just before the sermon — in my church in 
California, the ushers were acciistomed to throw 
all the doors of the church wide open. The 
climate there is mild the year round and they 
wanted an influx of fresh air in the middle of 
the service. The church stood on a busy street, 
the doors opening out on the sidewalk. Next 
door there was a large theater which was open 
on Sunday night as on any other night. And 
through the wide doors at the end of the broad 
aisle I used to see passers-by stop and stand 
on the sidewalk, listening to the music. - Some- 
times ,there were a hundred of them before we 
finished the singing of the hymn. 
[80] 



The Power of Request 

One Sunday night George Adam Smith, of 
Aberdeen, was to preach for me. Just before 
his sermon the great congregation, led by organ 
and choir, was singing with a mighty swing, 

" In the cross of Christ I glory, 
Towering o'er the rocks of time, 
All the light of sacred story- 
Gathers round its head sublime." 

And scores of people were standing there on 
the outside listening to that act of worship. I 
felt like calling to them, " If you only knew! 
If you only knew that here in God's house 
one of the most gifted and devoted men in 
Scotland is ready to speak, you would come in 
and ask and he would give you a message from 
the Eternal." But the hymn ended and the 
doors were shut and they passed on into the 
theater. The tide for them was not taken at 
the flood. 

Let me indicate first the importance of culti- 
vating the power of insight as to the real 
meaning of each opportunity. He that hath 
eyes to see, let him see ! It is foolish and wicked 
to stumble and blunder, imperiling your inter- 
ests as some blind man might, when you have 
eyes. It is criminal to keep the ordinary eyes, 
or the eyes of the mind, or the eyes of the soul 
shut when they might be open. 

Say to every opportunity which signals you 

what Jacob said that night to the angel, " Tell 

me thy name." Show me thy significance! 

All the Samaritan woman saw in that situa- 

[81] 



The Quest of Life 

tion at Jacob's well was a chance to joke with 
a Jew over his being so thirsty on a hot day 
that he was compelled to ask for a drink from 
a woman of Samaria. For a time that was as 
far as she got into the meaning of that splen- 
did opportunity. 

On your way home from church you will see 
well-dressed, bright-faced young men hanging 
around the cigar stands or at the doors of 
cheap places of amusement. They are trying 
to " kill time," as they put it, though they 
have already slaughtered golden hours enough 
to fill a cemetery. You will see others spend- 
ing the entire day set apart for thoughtfulness 
and aspiration in the thankless, fruitless task 
of staring at the cheap pictures and the poorly 
written stuff in the big Sunday edition. It is 
sold in bulk and accurately known as " read- 
ing matter.' ' 

Meanwhile they are allowing the great books 
by the master minds of the ages to go unread. 
They are entirely ignoring the services of wor- 
ship and fellowship, which stand like open doors 
inviting them to spiritual advance. Within 
stone's throw there are opportunities which, 
enjoyed Sunday after Sunday, would register 
an impress upon the moral nature, causing it 
to rejoice in the image and likeness of God. 
You feel like saying to each one of those young 
men, " Is it possible that you cannot find any- 
thing better than these poor, weak, cheap diver- 
sions which eat up the hours, as Pharaoh's lean 
cows ate the fat ones, remaining as lean as 
[82] 



The Power of 11 e que st 

before? " In view of their loss you do say in 
your heart, " If you knew, you would ask." 

When the woman came out with her water- 
pot that day she saw nothing but the water in 
the well. The water in the well has its uses. 
It can slake physical thirst. But there was 
One sitting by the well who could meet a deeper 
kind of need. When a man has done wrong 
and feels the burden of guilt upon his soul 
what can the water in the well do for him? 
When some soul has met with a bewildering 
sorrow the utter lack of sympathy in those 
great natural processes which enfold us be- 
comes an added trial. Your own personal loss 
may seem to you to have put out all the stars 
in the sky and to have darkened the sun, but 
next morning the sun shines as brightly as if 
nothing had occurred. The birds sing in the 
trees as if there was no grief to be found in the 
universe. The flowers unfold their gentle 
beauty. The mighty tides ebb and flow as if 
everything were just the same when you feel 
as if the world had come to an end. It may 
be that your closest friends seem unable to 
enter sympathetically into your loss. Then it 
is that you crave sympathy, fellowship, a divine 
source of help which will make you brave and 
keep *you strong. The water in the well, and 
all the other forms of physical satisfaction, fall 
flat. You turn to him who stood by the well 
waiting to minister to all the need the world 
might bring. 

The turning-point in many a man's career 
[83] 



The Quest of Life 

comes when his eyes are first opened to the 
full meaning of such an opportunity. There 
is a tide in the affairs of the soul which, taken 
at the flood, leads on to victory. In some high 
hour there came to you a heavenly vision. You 
had eyes to see what it meant. You were not 
disobedient to it. You tried from that hour to 
be true to your best moments, and not to your 
worst. As a result of that resolve you made a 
real advance into the land of spiritual achieve- 
ment. 

It may have come to you as unexpectedly 
as it came that day to the woman of Samaria. 
She was thirsty and she started with her 
pitcher for the well. She trudged along under 
the hot sun all unaware that yonder at the well 
the chance of a lifetime for her broken and 
defeated life was waiting. But there it was 
when she came up. And somewhere along the 
dusty road it stands awaiting every man. You 
may joke and banter as you make your ap- 
proach. You may show yourself thoughtless 
and let it pass. But it is there — it is there 
for everyone who has eyes to see. 

In the second place, the recognition of the 
deeper meaning of any opportunity should be 
followed by a resolute request. There is no 
encouragement given to the idea that the gifts 
of God are generously dropped down to us 
with no initial effort on our part. It you want 
to reap, you must sow. If you want gold, dig 
for it. If you mean to advance in any direction, 
take thought and strive with all your might. 
[84] 



The Power of Request 

It is the only way. Ask, if you desire to re- 
ceive; seek, if you would find; knock, or no 
doors will open for you into the unseen. Work 
out your own salvation. God will not work 
within you to accomplish his good pleasure 
otherwise. Let your whole attitude as you 
move upon your way be one of moral request. 
Then and only then will the sublime reactions 
from the moral order which enfolds us come 
to you in the fullness of their power. That 
was what Jesus said to the woman — " If you 
know, ask." 

The main indictment against the people of 
our day will not be that they were too dull 
and stupid to recognize the fact that there is 
something better than this weak, thin, flat life 
which so many of them live. They know that 
there is something vastly better. Some of 
them, in earlier days, have lived lives more 
worthy of their powers. There comes to them 
at times a feeling of inexpressible disgust for 
the method of existence into which they have 
fallen. They are wearing themselves out to 
gain things which they neither need nor deeply 
desire. 

But for one reason or another they have 
allowed the inner life to slump. They have 
struck their flags, surrendering the Christian 
ideals and Christian habits which they formerly 
held. They know that their fundamental need 
is that " gift of God," the living water which 
would not leave whole sections of their natures 
still athirst. But they are listless; they lack 
[85] 



The Quest of Life 

the spiritual energy to make the effort. They 
feel that the well is deep and that they 
have nothing adequate to draw with. Thus 
they slip along, allowing spiritual judgment to 
be taken against them by default. They know, 
but they fail to ask. 

When Christ had risen from the dead he met 
his disciples in the upper room. He was ready 
to bestow upon them a more potent and vital 
equipment for their work. He had shown them 
his own matchless example until the impress 
of it would never fade out of their minds. He 
had uttered his marvelous teaching until they 
would never forget how he spoke. But now 
he desired to impart that without which his 
example and teaching would be unfruitful. He 
drew them close about him in the intimacy of 
personal friendship. He breathed upon them 
as if he would impart his own store of the life 
abundant. As he did this he said, " Eeceive 
ye the Holy Ghost.' ' 

The word he used did not indicate a mere 
passive, receptive attitude. It was the word 
" lambano," take. Take ye the Holy Spirit! 
By your own act of faith, by the clasp and re- 
tention of your own soul, by the resolute claim 
of your own insistent will, take ye the Holy 
Ghost! Then by that fresh enduement of 
power from on high, live the life ! This is the 
way in which all the great gifts of God are to 
be received. They come in response to some 
act of initiative on our part. If you know, ask, 
take, retain. 

[86] 



The Power of Request 

The largest and most luxuriant plants in the 
garden drink the most water. They do it by 
the sheer vigor of their thrust. They send forth 
their many roots, taking up the moisture from 
the soil. They send out wide their many- 
mouthed leaves to catch the rain and the dew. 
They make the necessary demand for that 
which they must have to live that abundant and 
vigorous life. 

The souls of men where the inner life is full 
and strong drink steadily and drink deep from 
the wells of living water. They hunger for 
righteousness ; they thirst after the living God. 
They are only satisfied as they bring their 
wills into harmony with the enduring prin- 
ciples of righteousness, as they come themselves 
into personal fellowship with the infinite ground 
of all finite existence. They want to know 
God and Jesus Christ whom he has sent, that 
they may have life eternal. 

The first time I visited Germany I spent a 
whole day on one of the Rhine steamers be- 
tween Cologne and Mainz. Near me on the 
deck sat an American family — father, mother, 
grown-up son and daughter. We had scarcely 
passed Konigswinter, about nine o'clock in the 
forenoon, when they began to grumble. They 
had asked the waiter to bring them some ice 
cream, for the day was warm. He informed 
them that there was no ice cream on the boat. 
They launched into a fierce denunciation of a 
country that did not furnish ice cream on its 
pleasure boats. They compared that steamer 
[87] 



The Quest of Life 

with the day boats on the Hudson, greatly to 
the disadvantage of the famous Rhine. And 
they grumbled steadily for ten hours. 

Meanwhile we were passing the Drachenfels 
and the Lorelei, Ehrenbreitstein and the mouth 
of the Moselle, with all those famous medieval 
castles and lovely vineyards which lend beauty 
to the noble river. But their eyes were holden 
and they had neither words nor interest for 
those scenes of natural and historic beauty. 
All they asked for was ice cream, and in that 
they were disappointed. If they had known 
the meaning and the associations of that great 
river they would have asked for something 
better. Have you never seen people making a 
much more important voyage but failing utterly 
to make of it any adequate request? 

In the third place, when we ask aright he is 
ever ready to give. When the Samaritan 
woman first began to talk with Christ the only 
water she knew anything about lay at the bottom 
of Jacob's well. The higher forms of satis- 
faction which he suggested had not come within 
the range of her experience. But one of the 
charms of this narrative lies in tracing her 
growing capacity for something better. She 
ceased her banter when Jesus referred to the 
moral deficiencies of her own life — ' ' He whom 
thou now hast is not thy husband. ' ' She mur- 
mured, " Sir, I perceive that thou art a pro- 
phet. ' ' When Jesus ignored the bigoted preju- 
dice existing between Jews and Samaritans as 
to the place where men ought to worship, say- 
[88] 



The Power of Request 

ing, " True worshippers worship the Father in 
spirit and in truth,' ' the woman replied, " I 
know that the Messiah is coming who will tell 
us all things.' ' And presently, because of her 
interest in finer things, she forgot her thirst — 
" the woman left her water pot." She went 
back to the city, inviting all her friends to come 
out and see a man who had revealed her to 
herself. And she added, " Is not this the 
Christ? " In that growing interest and capa- 
city for better things Jesus had indeed bestowed 
upon her the gift of God. If you know, you 
will ask; and he will give. 

The gift of God! Here is one sitting at a 
public well who has it! He sits by all the 
familiar roads men travel, waiting to meet 
their need with that same gift. He stands 
ready to touch us at a deeper level of expe- 
rience. We have all done wrong, as had this 
woman of Samaria. Her sins were the coarse 
sins of the flesh, into which she had been be- 
trayed by an over-developed affectional nature 
indicated in the forming of that series of attach- 
ments. Our sins may be of the more subtle 
and dangerous type. We have all turned aside 
from the path of moral duty. We have all 
followed our personal inclinations in prefer- 
ence to the will of God and we have done it 
to our hurt. When we stand in the open before 
his searching eyes we are ashamed. 

Then comes the desire for deliverance, for 
inward renewal, for peace. We have drunk at 
many wells and we have thirsted again. We 
[89] 



The Quest of Life 

are seeking for some source of satisfaction 
which will be like a well of water, springing up 
into everlasting life. However it came about, 
we know as a matter of personal experience 
that when men and women turn from their sins, 
confessing them and asking forgiveness, when 
they put their trust openly in the mercy of God 
in Christ they find peace. The burden is gone. 
Relief comes. They walk in newness of life. 
You may test it for yourself as you demon- 
strate the fact that fire burns. 

And however it came about, we know by 
personal experience that when men and women 
seek to have their moral natures steadied and 
strengthened through the study of the Bible 
and prayer, through the sense of fellowship 
with the Lord and with their fellow-believers, 
that great valid end is attained. Taste and 
see and you will know ! Here is a well of water 
springing up perpetually for the satisfaction 
of every thirsty soul. 

If I knew you as intimately as some people 
know you I should be able to see here and 
there barren tracts of human experience which 
are saying at this moment, " We thirst.' ' 
Here is a man who has never succeeded in 
embodying those higher principles to which he 
subscribes in his daily vocation. He is making 
a living out of his calling but he is not making 
a life. Here is a woman whose home life is 
disappointing — it is a round of commonplaces 
which leave her soul athirst. Here is another 
life that has never entered into the power of 
[90] 



The Power of Request 

a noble friendship — the idle chit-chat of pass- 
ing acquaintance is the best it has found, leav- 
ing the heart as dry as the state of Nevada. 

For all these needs the water in Jacob's well, 
as a symbol of all forms of material satisfac- 
tion, does not suffice. You need the One who 
sat by the well waiting for the approach 
of just such need as yours. The deeper satis- 
factions come to us as powerful reactions from 
that spiritual order which enfolds us. They 
come to us as we know and ask and receive the 
gift of God. 

" I heard the voice of Jesus say 
1 Behold, I freely give 
The living water; thirsty one, 
Stoop down and drink and live.' 

" I came to Jesus and I drank 
Of that life-giving stream; 
My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, 
And now I live in him." 



[91] 



VI 

THE EIGHT FEONTAGE IN LIFE 



"He kneeled upon his knees three times a day and 
prayed his windows being open in his chamber toward 



Jerusalem." — Daniel vi, 10 



VI 
THE RIGHT FRONTAGE IN LIFE 

HERE was a young man away from home 
— he was in Babylon. It was not the sort 
of place he would have chosen for a resi- 
dence, but he could not help himself. He was 
carried there a captive and was compelled to 
spend his life in that pagan city. 

He saw the wealth and the power of it — 
its huge walls rose to the height of three hun- 
dred feet. He saw the social gaiety and 
dazzling luxury — the Hanging Gardens which 
the king had made in honor of his queen were 
one of the Seven Wonders of that ancient 
world. They rose in stately terraces, covered 
with trees and flowers; they were thronged 
with gaily dressed people in pursuit of pleas- 
ure. He saw what these prosperous people 
worshiped — they worshiped Power. The 
huge temple of Bel was grander in its propor- 
tions than the temple of Karnak on the banks 
of the Nile, grander than the mosque of St. 
Sophia on the banks of the Bosphorus, grander 
than the church of St. Peter's on the banks 
of the Tiber. It cast a long, ominous shadow 
far across the valley of the Euphrates when 
[95] 



The Quest of Life 

the sun went down. In the full strength of its 
appeal from the material side Babylon repre- 
sented the world in the fullness of its power. 

But the young man was unmoved by all this. 
He had another city on the map of his world. 
The walls of that other city were neither great 
nor high. Its purse was never large nor well 
filled. It never became in any sense a city 
of pleasure. It concerned itself mainly with 
the fundamental verities of the spirit. And 
the name of this other city was Jerusalem. 

It was the place where the divine honor 
dwelt. It stood for centuries as the center and 
source of the highest form of moral aspira- 
tion the world knew. Its very name awakens 
the deepest and sweetest religious memories we 
possess. Jerusalem, builded as a city that is 
compact together, whither the tribes go up! 
Jerusalem, city of our God, the holy place of 
the tabernacle of the Most High! When this 
young man in Babylon went into his room and 
knelt in prayer — ' ' his windows open toward 
Jerusalem ' ' — he gave his life another sort of 
frontage than that furnished by the streets of 
Babylon. He faced his soul upon the highest 
— there before the eyes of his moral imagina- 
tion was the city of God. 

With that open window clearly in view let 
me speak to you about the importance of giving 
every life the right sort of frontage. The 
young man in Babylon gave his daily life a 
spiritual outlook. The window was only a 
place to look through — it was not a place of 
[96] 



The Right Frontage in Life 

exit, like a door. Daniel never moved away 
from the city of Babylon — he lived and died 
there. He did his work among those princes 
and presidents, those satraps and counselors 
of the pagan court. He showed himself faith- 
ful in the discharge of his duties to Darius, the 
king. 

But though he could not escape from an 
environment distasteful, he could, by his habits 
of devotion, look three times a day upon a 
fairer prospect. He could face his inmost soul 
upon those massive fundamentals, the being of 
God, the high privilege of prayer, the moral 
imperative of duty, the mighty achievements 
of redemption. He formed the habit of stand- 
ing up in the presence of some sublime truth 
which he could not see over nor under nor 
around. He threw up his window, and yonder 
across the wide stretch of territory which lay 
between was Jerusalem, the outward symbol of 
an infinite system of spiritual help. 

His house was large and fine; it was gor- 
geously furnished. He stood next to the king, 
and the prime minister or secretary of state in 
such a capital as Babylon would be grandly 
housed. But in the midst of all this luxury he 
felt the longing of an exile. " We have here 
no continuing city," he seemed to say; " we 
seek one." 

It was five hundred miles in an air line from 

Daniel's window to Jerusalem. But there are 

distances which are not measured in miles. 

When he looked through that open window in 

[97] 



The Quest of Life 

the attitude of prayer, Jerusalem, with all it 
stood for, was within arm 's length. He reached 
forth and was lifted by it to a higher level of 
thought and feeling. The One who is not far 
from any one of us brought that praying man 
into a sense of august fellowship with himself, 
into the joy of personal participation in the 
accomplishment of a regal purpose. 

" Spiritual frontage," Francis G. Peabody 
called it in speaking to Harvard men. The 
inner life demands it for its own self-realiza- 
tion. If the soul looks out upon nothing better 
than the streets of Babylon, rich and gay 
though they may be; if the mind reads only 
the newspaper and hears only the talk which 
reflects the sentiments of Babylon ; if the heart 
finds its chief pleasure in places of light amuse- 
ment or in the more frivolous forms of social 
contact ; if the inmost nature never rises above 
the smoke and soot of these commonplace pur- 
suits, then inevitably the best that is in a man 
grows small, thin and anaemic. If he prizes 
moral vigor, stamina and endurance he must 
have the windows of his life open continually 
upon the superb sources of strength. 

Open windows — they have become a hobby ! 
And many people not content with that measure 
of fresh air which comes in through the open 
window provide their homes with sleeping 
porches. They spend every possible moment 
out-of-doors. Their lungs refuse the little sec- 
tion of air to be had indoors ; they must draw 
upon the infinite sources of physical renewal 
[98] 



The Right Frontage in Life 

to be found in those wide spaces into which the 
trees and the grass have breathed the breath 
of life. They demand the air which shares in 
the freshness of the sea and the tonic of the 
hills. 

You all need what the open window symbol- 
izes for that life which endures for more than 
threescore years and ten. You need contact 
and conference with those mighty restorative 
agencies which belong to the city of God. If 
your inner life is to measure up to its best 
estate, you need the upper room opening out 
upon a horizon bounded by nothing nearer than 
the stars and the being of God. You cannot 
shut your soul behind brick walls or under steel 
roofs and live. Look toward the sky ! Go forth 
and browse ' ' in the infinite meadows of heaven 
where blossom the lovely stars.' ' You have 
capacity for the highest — nothing less will 
satisfy. 

There is a better city than this city with 
which you have your daily dealings. It is the 
city John saw descending out of heaven from 
God. He was a Jew and he called it the ' * New 
Jerusalem.' ' It symbolizes that ideal social, 
industrial and political order coming down out 
of the realm of dreams to become actualized in 
the affairs of earth. It is a city that has 
foundations, its builder and maker is God. The 
Eternal is responsible for these great aspira- 
tions we cherish, touching a life into which the 
kings of the earth, the mightiest forces we 
know, shall bring their glory and honor. And 
[99] 



The Quest of Life 

no matter how deeply and widely yon strike 
the roots of your activity into the soil of 
immediate interests you need the daily front- 
age of your inner life upon that vaster 
prospect. 

" The finest action springs ever from the 
largest consciousness of reality " says Dr. 
Jowett. If a man has no far-reaching spiritual 
vista but only the narrow outlook into the 
backyard of his own petty conceit, his conduct 
will be weak and mean. Vanity and self- 
consciousness grow rank in hotbeds where 
small interests and petty ambitions disinte- 
grate. You can raise an insignificant plant in 
a flower-pot, but the oaks and the sequoias 
grow upon the bosom of mother earth, out 
under the open sky. They demand the wider 
consciousness of reality, the greater range of 
relationships. 

The statelier qualities of mind and heart 
spring only from a consciousness of spiritual 
reality similarly expanded. Let your mind 
out! Let it wing its way toward that distant 
horizon as the eyes of Daniel reached across 
wide plains toward the Judean hills ! Then you 
may bring your conduct up to " the style and 
manners of the sky." 

In many a life it is the vision of distant 
realities which becomes its salvation. Here in 
the New Testament was another young man 
away from home. He too had gone into a far 
country. He had wasted his manhood in riotous 
living. He was undergoing the painful process 
[100] 



The Right Frontage in Life 

of disillusionment. When he had spent all 
there arose a mighty famine in the land. He 
began to be in want. No man gave unto him. 
He was hungry enough to eat husks with the 
hogs. 

When he reached bed-rock in his downward 
course, he came to himself. i ' How many hired 
servants of my father have bread enough and 
to spare! I will arise and go to my father.' ' 
He saw by the eye of spiritual imagination that 
which set his feet in the pathway of a new 
life. His mind was open toward his father's 
house, and what he saw in that hard hour 
caused him to rise and go. 

You cannot dispense with that proper front- 
age for your own life. If you were compelled 
to live in a cob-house or in a dog-kennel, all 
the more would your deeper nature demand a 
window opening upon that which has size and 
worth. And in every situation you can find for 
yourself an outlook upon something higher. 
Open your windows and gaze upon it until you 
are transformed by that renewing of your mind. 
Stand with unveiled face before the glory of 
the Lord as it manifests itself in the finest 
phases of human character you have ever be- 
held, until you are changed into the same image 
by the Spirit. 

Here is a young man who has come up to the 
city of New York to study or to work out for 
himself a business career. He may feel that 
he is in Babylon. He sees the wealth and the 
power of this mighty city. He sees the social 
[101] 



The Quest of Life 

gaiety and the alluring temptation. He is 
separated from those he loves and from the 
wholesome restraints of home. He has no one 
to ask him how he spends his evenings. 

He is tempted to change the clean, honest 
habits of his youth and to lower those stan- 
dards which he was taught to hold high. He 
is tempted to sacrifice principle to pleasure and 
to follow the line of least resistance because 
it will save him the effort involved in main- 
taining his spiritual ascent. You may spell 
his particular temptation in all sorts of ways, 
but it all comes to this — it is the everlasting 
temptation to let go the higher ideals of Jeru- 
salem and to make himself comfortably at home 
in the lower wards of Babylon. In that hour 
he needs the steadying influence of the ' ' spirit- 
ual frontage " suggested by the open window. 
He needs the moral oxygen of those Judean 
hills blowing in upon him like a tonic infusion 
of blood and iron. 

In the second place, this young man in Baby- 
lon maintained a right frontage even though 
it involved risk. The king had published a 
foolish decree that if any one should ask a 
petition of any god or man save himself for 
thirty days he should be cast into a den of 
lions. But when Daniel knew that the writing 
was signed he knelt and prayed to God three 
times a day, as he did aforetime. He did it 
with his windows open, that he might look out 
upon the city of God. He did it with his win- 
dows open that the city of Babylon might look 
[102] 



The Right Frontage in Life 

in, if it chose. He was not hiding behind the 
door. He would not keep his religion out of 
sight. He knelt there, faced toward the Judean 
hills, proclaiming his unshaken devotion to the 
God of his fathers. 

The men of Babylon spoke contemptuously 
of Jerusalem. " It is a wretched little hole," 
they said, u off in a rocky, barren district. It 
is peopled by religious cranks. When Nebu- 
chadnezzar, of Babylon, attacked the place it 
could not defend itself — he sacked the city 
and robbed the temple. Jerusalem indeed! " 
It was an insignificant place in the eyes of 
Babylon. 

But this young man kneeling at the open 
window was in no wise disturbed. He never 
allowed the sneers of the foolish to interfere 
with the quiet and usual transaction of his 
business. He went straight ahead making his 
steady ascent to levels of character they knew 
not of. The wealth and the high walls, the 
hanging gardens and the temple of Bel were 
as nothing compared to what he saw by the 
eye of faith when he looked out toward Jeru- 
salem. 

His course involved a risk more serious than 
that of ridicule. There was that decree about 
the den of lions. We need not stop to discuss 
the historicity of this narrative. We are told 
that " the Higher Criticism insists that there 
was no den and no lions and (worst of all), 
that there was no Daniel." This does not 
trouble me. It is my own opinion that the story 
[103] 



The Quest of Lif e 

was written in the second centnry before Christ 
to nerve the discouraged Jews in hard straits 
under the heel of Antiochus Epiphanes. But 
I regard the real substance of that story as a 
message from the Eternal. I have seen the 
den and the lions and Daniel. I have seen them 
all in New York, and in San Francisco, and in 
cities on the other side of the globe. 

This chapter in the Bible is reenacted every 
day in the year. You may have been told this 
very week that if you try to be honest in 
business you will starve; if you tell the truth 
you will go to the wall; if you maintain those 
fine scruples you will be a fool for your pains. 
" Here are the lions waiting to eat you! One 
of them is called * Failure/ and another ' Pov- 
erty/ and another the ' World's Scorn. ' The 
writing is signed — it is all there in black-and- 
white. ' ' In all of its details this ancient story 
is true to life. 

When the decree had been issued it was a 
law of the Medes and Persians that it could 
not be altered. It was a way they had. For 
the king to change a decree would be to admit 
that he had made a mistake. And in those 
days, when an Oriental monarch was all but 
deified, that would never do. It was an iron- 
clad regulation which Daniel encountered when 
he kept on with his prayer. 

But if the law of the Medes and Persians 

altered not, neither did Daniel. He too had a 

law established by the King of kings. His 

enemies found that he did not budge one inch 

[104] 



The Right Frontage in Life 

from the path of duty. His sense of what was 
right became a quarter-section of Gibraltar set 
down athwart their decree about the den of 
lions. He proposed to stand true to the highest 
he saw, come what might. And when that is 
done, in any quarter of the world, the ultimate 
supremacy of those spiritual forces mighty 
through God to the pulling down of strong- 
holds is manifested afresh. 

Daniel was a Puritan. He lived a long way 
from Plymouth Rock; he had been dead for 
two thousand years when that compact was 
signed in the cabin of the Mayflower. He had 
never read a line of John Milton; he knew 
nothing about Oliver Cromwell. But he was a 
Puritan none the less. He insisted upon the 
rights of the individual conscience as against 
the dictates of arbitrary authority. Let King 
Darius publish his decree ! Let the princes and 
presidents insist that the laws of the Medes and 
Persians alter not ! Let them utter their threat 
about the den of lions! This ancient Puritan 
will stand for the right as God gives him to 
see the right, taking all the risks involved. He 
will stake his all upon fidelity to duty and 
trust to the march of events to justify the 
wisdom of his course. When you find that 
spirit in any land or age you find the Puritan. 

His enemies had it in writing that if he 
offered his prayer he would be eaten by the 
lions. Poor, deluded, short-sighted mortals, 
that was all they knew ! Daniel himself did not 
know what the outcome might be — he went 
[105] 



The Que st of Life 

like Abraham of old, not knowing whither he 
went. It was another instance where moral 
faith transcended the considerations of ex- 
pediency. The man who walks in the light 
true to the highest he sees, keeping his life 
faced toward the great right things of justice, 
mercy and trnth, walks in safety. Yea, though 
he walks through the valley of the shadow of 
death, he fears no evil, for God is with him. 
Facing his life steadily upon righteousness he 
knows that nothing can permanently defeat 
him! 

In the third place Daniel maintained his 
right frontage systematically. He went into 
the quiet of his own room. He opened his 
window toward the west. He had stated hours 
for spiritual exercise — he did it ' ' three times 
a day." He did not pray in a hurried, scam- 
pering way, his mind distracted by a score of 
competing interests — ' ' he knelt upon his 
knees," his very posture deepening his sense 
of the sacredness of what he was doing. He 
was as methodical as the Standard Oil Com- 
pany. And other things being equal, the man 
of method is the man of achievement, in things 
spiritual as in things temporal. His sys- 
tematic attention to those interests which are 
unseen and eternal enabled him to lay up 
treasure toward God. 

The discipline of method has surpassing 

worth. The busiest men and women need that 

systematic attention to those interests which 

transcend all others. You have your hours for 

[106] 



The Right Frontage in Life 

meals. You would not trust your physical well- 
being for a week to a bite picked up here or 
there from any lunch counter you might pass. 
You have a time and a place when you put 
other things aside that you may sit down be- 
fore him who satisfies our mouths with good 
things, and be fed. It is only by systematic 
attention to your needs that you are able to 
maintain a robust and serviceable physique. 

If you desire moral stamina and spiritual 
energy, meet the conditions with equal fidelity. 
Early in the morning, before you come down 
into the streets of Babylon to hear its talk and 
breathe its impoverished atmosphere, open your 
windows. Look out upon the sources of 
strength. Wait upon him until your soul 
mounts up with wings like an eagle. Wait 
upon him until your moral nature can run upon 
errands of usefulness and not grow weary. 
Wait upon him until you can walk — and this 
is the climax of the ancient promise — wait 
until you can walk at your ordinary gait in 
the customary discharge of duty and not faint. 
Put your heart through its facings. Let it 
gain a fresh sense of the majesty and glory of 
God, a fresh sense of the moral interest he 
cherishes toward you — then you will not be 
afraid of Babylon with all its lions. 

When the day is over and Babylon has had 
its way with you for another eight hours, go 
up and look out through that open window upon 
those structures devoted to traffic of another 
kind. Let your eye rest upon that broad street 
[107] 



The Quest of Life 

which has in the midst of it the river of the 
water of life, clear as crystal. Let that whole 
city whose builder and maker is God, sweep in 
upon your vision. You sleep better when your 
windows are open spiritually as well as physi- 
cally. The oxygen from those mountains round 
about Jerusalem is good for soul and body. 
Lift up your eyes unto the hills from whence 
cometh help. Then you will be able to say, * ' I 
will lay me down in peace and sleep, for Thou 
makest me to dwell in safety. ' ' 

Jerusalem, as I have used the term, is not 
a place on the map. It is not the name of a 
city forty miles east of Joppa. It stands as a 
symbol for that source of help which is not 
forty miles, nor one mile, from any spot where 
men and women are tempted and tried, where 
they struggle and fail. It is not far from any 
one of us — open the window of your soul and 
it will impinge upon you like the breath of 
the morning. 

Your feet may be treading the streets of 
Babylon; your hands may be busy with the 
tedious tasks of Babylon; your mind may be 
held by all the wearisome details which make 
up the ordinary grind. So be it ! All the while 
your inmost nature may be open, inviting, re- 
ceptive toward that nobler order of life which 
seeks and finds its fullest expression in the 
lives of busy people. The busiest are often 
the best people, because in all the multiplicity 
of their interests they keep clear their vision 
of that higher world which perpetually yields 
[108] 



The Right Frontage in Life 

to them its strength. Keep your frontage 
right; let it be unobstructed by dishonest pur- 
pose and every modest scene of duty will be- 
come ennobled. 

How many of you know all this by personal 
experience! You may never have been within 
a thousand miles of that great city in the valley 
of the Euphrates. You may never have seen 
the walls and battlements of Jerusalem. But 
you are familiar with every valley and hill 
in that whole region. You know Babylon and 
Jerusalem as you know the Battery and Cen- 
tral Park. Your knowledge of spiritual geog- 
raphy was not gained by travel, it was gained 
by experience of the deep things of God. 

Many a man of quiet demeanor has been 
able for years to bid defiance to the forces of 
evil because his windows were open toward the 
source of power. Many a woman, frail in body 
and modest as a nun, has stood valiantly in 
the place of duty because from the upper room 
she saw him who is the strength of any life. 

It was so in the life of the Son of man. 
" Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, 
for the joy that was set before him, endured 
the cross, despised the shame, and is now set 
down at the right hand of the throne of God." 
Wherefore, seeing we are encompassed about 
with a multitude of temptations, let us run with 
patience the race set before us, looking unto 
him — looking unto him ! 



[109] 



VII 

THE MAN WITHIN THE MAN 



" This day salvation is come to this house, forsomuch 
as he also is a son of Abraham." — Luke xix, 9. 



VII 
THE MAN WITHIN THE MAN 

THE Son of man came eating and drink- 
ing." His whole habit of life was in- 
tensely social. He was a diner-out. He was 
found so often at men's tables, enjoying their 
hospitality, that his enemies accused him of 
being " a gluttonous man and a winebibber. ' ' 
The charge was false, but the fact that it 
could be made with any show of reason indi- 
cates how far he was from the lonely, ascetic 
type. 

We are told that he began his public min- 
istry at a wedding in Cana of Galilee. He 
entered fully into the joy of the occasion, and 
when the refreshments gave out he came to the 
relief of his host, helping him to renew the 
supply. When the hungry multitude followed 
him into a desert place to hear his words he 
felt called upon to act the part of a host. He 
bade the men sit down on the green grass and 
he provided them with bread. He was con- 
stantly illustrating spiritual truth from the 
familiar experiences of social life — his par- 
ables of the great supper and of the ten virgins 
at the wedding and his address on " the bread 
[113] 



The Quest of Life 

of life " are characteristic. He made the act 
of eating and drinking a perpetual sacrament. 
The most prominent article of furniture in 
any Christian church is a table. It is the 
Lord's table, where Christian disciples gather 
in sacred, joyous fellowship. Jesus was in- 
tensely social in his whole habit of life. 

Here in Jericho he invited himself to dine 
with a rich man. He invited himself because 
the rich man would never have thought of in- 
viting this distinguished teacher of religion to 
his home. Zacchaeus had a good home and 
plenty to eat, for he was rich. He would have 
been glad to exercise the grace of hospitality, 
but no respectable man in Jerusalem would 
have accepted an invitation to the home of 
Zacchaeus. He was a " publican,' ' that is to 
say, a tax collector for the hated' Roman gov- 
ernment. The tax collector in any country is 
not likely to be as popular as Santa Claus. 
But the tax collector in Palestine, by reason 
of the nefarious system in vogue, stood socially 
where a gambler or a rumseller stands with us. 
He was ostracized. He could not even go to 
church without hearing some Pharisee say in 
his prayer, " Thank God I am not an extor- 
tioner, unjust, an adulterer, or even as this 
tax collector.' ' 

It meant everything, therefore, when this 
master of men looked up into the sycamore 
tree and said, ' ' Zacchaeus ' ' — that was the 
tax collector's name but the people of Jericho 
never addressed him thus. They called him 
[U4] 



The Man Within the Man 

"wolf," " dog," " bear." These were the af- 
fectionate terms of endearment which orthodox 
Jews employed in addressing publicans. " Zac- 
chaeus ' ' — when Jesus uttered his name in 
tones of respect it put the man at once in a 
better frame of mind. It was like a drink 
of cold water on a hot day. " Make haste 
and come down, for today I must abide at 
thy house." Zacchaeus made haste and came 
down and received him joyfully. The moral 
results of that hour at the dinner table are 
here set down in the passage where the text 
stands. 

We notice first that Jesus saw another and 
a better man within the figure of this hated tax 
collector. Zacchaeus, a publican, a sinner, a 
man hated by his fellow-townsmen, but Zac- 
chaeus also potentially a son of Abraham, a 
child of God, a man destined to share in that 
spiritual enterprise in which all the nations 
of the earth are being blessed! Hidden away 
in the depths of his soul there was a certain 
something waiting for the call of Christ. He 
had been taking men's property by wrong 
accusation. He had been hoarding his wealth 
as a miser, but he had within him the capacity 
for a right life. And on that day when the 
Son of man came to his house the voice of 
God spoke to the man within the man. 

There are three ways of looking at a sinful 

man. First, there is the hard, that is to say, 

the wooden, way. The people who view the 

matter in this light see nothing but the law 

[115] 



The Quest of Life 

of righteousness and the act of disobedience. 
They make no allowance for human weakness, 
for long continued temptation, for mitigating 
circumstances. They are people who have never 
sinned themselves, as they think, never wavered, 
never doubted, never loved, never lived. Their 
eyes are holden and narrow. They see nothing 
but the line of rectitude and the step aside. 
They offer no hope nor help to men who have 
done wrong. 

There is the lax way of viewing a sinful 
man. These people show an indiscriminate 
leniency. " It all comes in the day's work," 
they say, " the good and the bad." And it is 
all pretty much alike — evil is only good i n the 
making, it is one of the growing pains of vir- 
tue. " The man reeling down the street drunk 
is, after all, engaged in a mistaken quest for 
God," as a certain noted preacher of an ex- 
tremely liberal type had it a few years since. 
And these soft-hearted people go along mixing 
their colors until they have no black and white 
left — only a few indistinct shades of gray. 
There is neither help nor hope for men who 
have done wrong with them for all their soft 
mush of concession. 

There is a third way, the way of those people 
who are both clear-eyed and warm-hearted. 
They never forget the difference between right 
and wrong — they know that it is like the differ- 
ence between heaven and hell. The difference 
between a good man and a bad man is like the 
difference between a sheep and a goat — the 
[116] 



The Man Within the Man 

bad man, for the time being, is a different sort 
of animal altogether. The men in this third class 
would not think of calling a thieving, miserly 
tax collector like Zacchaeus " a saint " or " a 
man engaged in a mistaken quest for God." 
They would not suggest that there is not much 
to choose after all between some warm-hearted 
woman of the streets and Mary the mother of 
our Lord. They keep their colors distinct. 
Black is black and white is white ; they do not 
allow their moral distinctions to run together 
in a common blur. But they have also a kind 
of second sight, a clairvoyance for detecting 
the hidden capacity for something better in 
every man who has done wrong. And when 
they see that capacity they speak to it. They 
call it by name, as Christ did with Zacchaeus 
that day in Jericho. And that sympathetic in- 
sight into moral failure gives them power. 

When I was in Alaska I saw the work of a 
man named William Duncan. He went to a 
little village called Metlacatla forty-odd years 
ago. He found the Indians low, dirty, ignorant 
and vile. They were so immoral in some of 
their habits as to be indescribable. But Dun- 
can saw beneath the surface. He said, " God 
made these Indians and he made them in his 
own image." God carved his image there in 
bronze, as he carved it in ivory in the white 
man and in ebony in the black man. 

William Duncan began to preach to those 
Indians. He taught them, and lived among 
them as a man of God. The word of grace 
[117] 



The Quest of Life 

and truth was made flesh and dwelt among them 
in the person of William Duncan. He kept it 
up for years until the image of God in bronze 
began to show. Go to that Indian village now 
and you will find every family living in its 
own house, with all the decent appointments 
of home life. You will find a bank, a coopera- 
tive store, a saw mill, a box factory, a salmon 
cannery, owned and operated by those Indians 
engaged in profitable industry. You will find 
a school where Indian boys and girls are taught 
to read and write, to think and live. You will 
find a church where an Indian clergyman is 
preaching the gospel of eternal life, and an 
Indian musician, once a medicine man beating 
his tom-tom, is now playing a pipe organ while 
a congregation of Indians sing the great hymns 
of the church to the praise of Almighty God. 

William Duncan was right — God made them. 
He made them in his own image. And Duncan 
learned to call every Indian by name, by that 
new name which embodied those higher quali- 
ties for which he had capacity. In every case 
he saw the man within the man. 

It meant everything to Zacchaeus to feel that 
day that there was one man in Jericho who 
recognized that better something in his own 
nature and stood ready to call it by name. 
Call any man wolf or dog and he may 
come to act like a cur or a coyote. Reputa- 
tion is not character — it is only what people 
call a man; it is only the shadow which char- 
acter casts, but it can be a pleasant, healing 
[118] 



The Man Within the Man 

shadow for all that. It was the master of 
English expression who said: 

"Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; 
'T was mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands; 
But he, that filches from me my good name, 
Robs me of that which not enriches him, 
And makes me poor indeed." 

When Christ spoke to Zacchaeus, calling him 
by name, indicating his respect for the capacity 
of Zacchaeus to become a son of Abraham, a 
child of God, it awakened a new aspiration in 
the depths of that unhappy soul. 

In the second place, by his personal fellow- 
ship Jesus helped that other and better man 
into being. It cost Christ something that day 
to enroll himself as a friend of Zacchaeus. When 
they walked down street together the people 
murmured — ' ' He has gone to be the guest 
of a man who is a sinner. ' ' They thought that 
there must be a screw loose somewhere — a 
man is known by the company he keeps. They 
felt that if he were a prophet he would not have 
come to Jericho, passing by the leading mem- 
bers of the church in order to be the guest of 
a tax collector. 

The Master understood all this and accepted 
it. He was willing to pay the full price of 
doing good in his own way. There was never 
an hour when he was not ready to be wounded 
for the transgressions of others, to be bruised 
for their iniquities, and to accept stripes of all 
sorts that they might be healed. His readiness 
[119] 



The Quest of Life 

to incur the suspicion and hatred of Jericho by- 
putting himself in open personal alliance with 
that better nature which he saw in the publican 
was one of the elements of his power. 

Jean Valjean came out of the galleys a 
discharged convict. Every man he met scorned 
him because he had been in prison. The men 
swore at him ; the women shuddered when they 
saw him pass; the dogs snarled. 

He wanted to stay at an inn, but the landlord 
refused his money because he had been a con- 
vict. He went to the stable, but the hostlers 
refused to allow him to sleep in the hay. He 
tried to creep into a dog-kennel, for it was 
beginning to rain, but the dogs bit him and 
drove him into the street. " I have knocked 
at every door," he said to a passer-by, " and 
every door has been shut in my face with a 
slam." " Have you knocked there? " said the 
man, pointing to the house where the good 
Bishop Welcome lived. " No." " Knock 
there." When the convict knocked, there was 
the sound of a hearty " Come in." And when 
the bishop saw that it was the convict his 
sister had been describing as having been seen 
on the street, he called the man " Monsieur," 
and invited him to sup with them and to spend 
the night. He had as his guest a man who was 
a sinner. 

And in the middle of the night Jean Val- 
jean arose and stole the bishop's candlesticks 
and made off with them — as might have been 
expected! Exactly! But that kindness of the 
[120] 



The Man Within the Man 

bishop to the outcast, that faith in the capacity 
of the man to be something better than a con- 
vict, that readiness to give him sympathy and 
personal fellowship in his moral struggle, sowed 
a tiny bit of influence which was like a grain 
of mustard seed. When it was grown it 
became a mighty tree of changed character 
bearing its good fruit every month in the 
year. 

Every minister listens sympathetically to a 
great many stories which he thinks are lies 
when he hears them — and it often turns out 
that they are lies. Every minister helps many 
a man who shows himself unworthy. Every 
man whose heart is not made of reenforced 
concrete trusts to the better impulses of many 
a man only to be disappointed in the outcome. 

And all this is to be accepted as part of the 
day's work. God pity us if we should become 
so sagacious and prudent as never to venture 
anything on the prospect, uncertain though it 
may be, of that man within the man! God 
pity the world if Christ had been thus careful 
of the investment of his trust. If you want to 
help that man who ought to be, into being, 
believe in him ! Believe in Zacchaeus ! Believe 
in the capacity of the man who has fallen into 
the mud! Believe in the woman whom the 
Pharisees are ready to stone ! Believe in that 
hidden capacity for a nobler life and your own 
faith will become a mighty agent in God 's hand 
for the bringing out of that better self. 

Suppose the man you would help toward 
[121] 



The Quest of Life 

Christian life is like Zacchaeus — hard, tight, 
mean, with scarcely a generous impulse left in 
his grasping soul. I have never observed that 
much is accomplished by beating such men over 
the head with hard words, even though they 
deserve them all. I have never seen that much 
headway is made by stoning the wrongdoer. 
When the first rock hits him it is not apt to 
induce the mood of aspiration. I have seen 
wonders accomplished in the work of moral 
recovery where some great-souled man, in sym- 
pathetic recognition of the nature which has 
gone down in defeat, puts himself in open 
fellowship with the man within the man. You 
are warranted in telling Zacchaeus that he is 
capable of being something better than a thiev- 
ing, miserly tax collector. Indicate to him that 
he is a son of Abraham; a child of God with 
a place and a part in that great spiritual enter- 
prise in which the world is to be blessed. 
When that approach is made, we may look for 
results. 

Finally, Jesus indicated the proper field 
where Zacchaeus could give expression to that 
better self. It cost Christ something to walk 
down street as the guest of a bad man. It 
cost Zacchaeus something also to receive Christ 
into his house and into his heart. It made 
necessary a radical readjustment. We find in 
the action of this man a full page life-size 
picture of old-fashioned, thoroughgoing re- 
pentance. Where repentance is genuine, it 
costs. Tears are cheap — there are those who 
[122] 



The Man Within the Man 

shed bucketsful of them and they have no more 
worth or significance than so much rain water. 
Remorse is cheap — it may be merely the pain 
of being found out, not involving any serious 
change of purpose. Repentance, where it is 
real, is more precious than diamonds and ru- 
bies. It foretells the upward movement of a 
soul which will outlast and outshine them all. 
Repentance means an about face, the putting 
away of dishonest purpose, the actual move- 
ment of the life toward that light where there 
is no darkness at all. 

It cost Zacchaeus something to repent. His 
two most serious faults had been these — he 
had been dishonest; he had been stingy. Now 
at the very point where he had fallen down, he 
begins to get up. As a result of his conference 
with Christ, the first two words which open 
his lips are these, " Restore, Give." " If I 
have taken anything from any man by false 
accusation I restore him four fold." Four for 
one indicated a very thoroughgoing type of 
repentance. " The half of my goods I give 
to the poor." Give — it was a new word for 
Zacchaeus! It almost stuck in his throat like 
Macbeth 's " Amen." Buy, sell, get, gain, hold, 
enjoy — these words he could pronounce! He 
knew the experiences they represented. But 
" give " had been a word he could not pro- 
nounce. Now, in the hour when salvation 
came to his house, he begins to utter it. . He 
had been dishonest, and he had been stingy. 
Now that he has received Christ into his heart, 
[123] 



The Quest of Life 

he will restore and give. It was salvation, the 
real article, which had come to his house. 

This new life in Zacchaeus, this man within 
the man, seems to have been born about noon 
while Christ was his guest at dinner. But it 
grew rapidly. It went along adding cubits to 
its stature. Before the sun went down that 
night it had the strength of a giant. It was 
standing on its own two feet, speaking plainly 
and doing the deeds of a full-grown Christian. 
When newness of life rises rapidly into such 
vigor as to restore fourfold for every dollar 
taken wrongfully and bestow the half of all 
it has in charity, you know that it is a plant of 
the Lord's own planting. Verily salvation had 
come to that house ! 

Jesus entered and passed through Jericho, 
and as a result of his visit salvation came to 
one man who lived from that hour as a son 
of Abraham. The same august and benign 
figure enters and passes' through every city. 
I saw him here on the streets of this city yes- 
terday. I have seen him to-day. He goes about 
looking into the face of every man, rich or 
poor. He calls every man by name, by that 
new name which indicates what the man may 
become. And every man who hears that voice 
and allows his better nature to open the door 
will find that salvation comes to his heart. He 
will begin in that hour to live as a child of 
God. 



[124] 



VIII 
THE HIGHEST FORM OF SACRIFICE 



"By faith Abraham, when he was tried, offered up 
Isaac/' — Hebbews xi, 17. 



VIII 
THE HIGHEST FORM OF SACRIFICE 

YOU must read the story which lies back of 
those words with the eyes of your heart. 
The eyes of your mind will never reach the 
deeper meaning of it. If any one should under- 
take to recite this passage in cold blood as 
he might read a page of trigonometry he would 
mispronounce half the words. The hard and 
fast way of dealing with it has made it a libel 
on the character of God and a nightmare to the 
hearts of loving parents. It can only be inter- 
preted in the light of the affections. It must 
be carried beyond the realm of ordinary in- 
tellectual perception into the sphere of sacred 
feeling to be understood. 

Here was a man with an only son! He had 
other children as a result of the irregular 
unions prevalent in that rude world, but only 
one son of his love. His hopes for the future 
were bound up with the life of that boy. His 
prospects for happiness as the shadows should 
lengthen rested upon this child of his heart. 
He all but idolized him. 

But he was a thoughtful, conscientious father 
— he was accustomed to examine himself re- 
[ 127 ] 



The Quest ofLife 

garding that sweet affection. He saw around 
him other fathers who, in their ill-advised zeal, 
were taking their sons and offering them in 
sacrifice to the terrible deities they worshiped. 
Gradually this question forced itself home in 
Abraham's mind, " Is Isaac mine or God's? 
Is my love for my child greater or less than 
my devotion to God? " 

Every time he saw the hand of a father 
reddened with the blood of his child, every 
time he watched the smoke rise from some 
rude altar where a human body was consumed, 
the question came, "Do I love my God in 
that supreme way, or do I love Isaac more ? ' ' 

You know what followed. It is told here 
with simple directness. There came to him one 
of those commanding moral impulses which the 
Hebrew called " the word of the Lord." It 
said, " Take now thine only son Isaac into 
the land of Moriah and offer him for a burnt 
offering. ' ' 

Terrible as it was, Abraham set out to obey. 
He rose up early in the morning to nerve him- 
self for the hard day ahead. He clave the wood 
and saddled the ass not sparing himself any 
detail of the painful preparation for that fate- 
ful hour. He took Isaac his son and went to 
the place of which God had told him. 

When they reached the spot the boy looked 
around with an innocent wonder and said, ' i My 
father, behold the fire and the wood, but where 
is the lamb? " He thought his father had for- 
gotten something. " Where is the lamb for a 
[128] 



The Highest Form of Sacrifice 

burnt offering? " The father replied (and you 
can hear his voice break, for the ground was 
reeling under his feet), " My son, God will 
provide himself a lamb." 

The altar was built and the fire laid. Then 
this man of heroic build and sturdy faith 
reached for his knife to slay his son. Just 
there an angel of the Lord stayed his hand. 
A voice from heaven spoke to him of a higher 
use to be made of that child's life. Abraham 
was led to offer a ram which he found caught 
in the bushes nearby and to take his son back 
to his home, now to be trained for a career of 
usefulness, with a deeper sense of the sacred 
significance of his life. 

" Is this boy mine or God's? " the father 
had been asking during all those months of 
struggle. His heart said " Mine." His creed 
said " God's." Both answers were true and 
untrue. Each answer was true in what it 
affirmed and false in what it denied. The boy 
was Abraham's child, his own flesh and blood, 
but held in trust — ultimately the boy belonged 
to the author and giver of life. The boy was 
God 's child, but he could only fulfill his sonship 
in the divine family by becoming a good son 
in his earthly home, through the nurture and 
affection of his father's house. And in that 
hour of heart-searching Abraham entered into 
a deeper understanding of human affection. He 
realized the fuller spiritual significance of this 
earthly relationship as he offered it in whole- 
hearted surrender and consecration to God. 
[129] 



The Quest of Life 

" By faith Abraham offered up Isaac,' ' the 
text says. The writer of this eleventh chapter 
of Hebrews viewed the transaction as complete. 
He says nothing about the staying of Abra- 
ham's hand or the arresting of his action by 
a voice from heaven. ' ' By faith Abraham of- 
fered up Isaac." And he is right. In the 
agony of that hour and in the clearer vision to 
which it led the father did make his offering 
complete. He saw and he accepted God's 
rights in that child. 

He was mercifully restrained, by some 
higher impulse, by some sober second thought 
which came to him at that crucial moment as a 
word of the Lord, from actually slaying his son 
in a mistaken spirit of worship. But in the 
depths of his own soul the offering was carried 
through to its completion. He went down the 
mountainside saying to himself, " This child 
of my love is also the child of God's love. 
This good gift of the Eternal, on which my 
hopes of happiness rest, must now be conse- 
crated to the highest ends. ' ' 

Here, then, we have what I have ventured to 
call " the highest form of sacrifice." At its 
best sacrifice is not an act of destruction but 
an act of consecration. If thy right hand cause 
thee to offend, cut it off; cast it from thee. 
It is better to enter into life maimed than 
having two hands to steal with them, to forge 
with them, or to do any wrong. If thy right 
foot cause thee to stumble, cut it off. It is 
better to be without feet and sit down for the 
[130] 



The Highest Form of Sacrifice 

rest of one's days than having two feet to 
walk with springing step in paths of evil. If 
thy right eye cause thee to offend, pluck it out. 
It is better to enter into life without eyes and 
grope with the blind, than having two eyes to 
use them for wrong ends. 

Better every time ! As between the degrada- 
tion of any faculty and mutilation, by the 
destruction of it, the choice is made instantly. 
Better a life maimed but honest and clean than 
a life possessed of every faculty yet given over 
to evil. 

But this does not exhaust the possible op- 
tions. u Better " indeed, but beyond that 
better stands a further option which is " best." 
Degradation is the worst use to be made of 
any faculty — mutilation would be much better. 
But best of all is the consecration of faculty — 
the right hand, the right foot, the right eye — 
to worthy use. In that case the man enters 
into life not maimed, but whole and sound. 

This was the lesson Abraham learned at 
Moriah. Degradation of the son 's life, through 
the favoritism and petting of an indulgent 
father, until the boy's moral fiber might have 
been destroyed, would have been a tragedy in- 
deed. Better the mutilation of the father's 
affection, better the cutting off of the boy's 
life than the moral degradation of it. But 
best of all would be the discovery of the deeper 
meaning of human affection through the con- 
secration of that lovely relationship to the 
holiest ends. 

[131] 



The Quest of Life 

Let me apply that general principle in a 
practical way to several interests. Here is a 
man with a sound physique. He is every inch 
a man. He rejoices daily in his splendid bodily 
vigor. He gives abundant attention to diet and 
exercise, to outdoor air and to those recrea- 
tions which minister to health. But he is a 
conscientious man, and in some quiet hour he 
is led to ask himself, ' ' Is this abounding physi- 
cal vigor mine or God's? Is it mine to keep 
and enjoy, or is it a thing to be sacrificed to 
him? " 

What answer shall we give? The worldling 
says, " It is all mine. These appetites are mine 
to enjoy." He allows himself every conceiv- 
able pleasure consistent with a prudent regard 
for his own continued comfort. He uses his 
Sundays entirely for recreation. He holds 
himself sternly aloof from every exacting form 
of service which might bring weariness or pain. 
He insists that his bodily life is all his own. 

Over against him stands the ascetic. He 
says, i i This body is not mine — it must be 
offered to God." He flogs his body to keep 
it under. He starves those appetites. He 
wears his hair shirt to his own discomfort. 
He allows the fire and fervor of his moral 
earnestness to burn out his physical efficiency. 

Which man is right? Neither one is right. 
' l Know ye not that your body ' ' — yours to 
possess, yours to enjoy, yours to maintain at 
the highest possible point of efficiency — 
" know ye not that your body is the temple 
[132] 



The Highest Form of Sacrifice 

of the Holy Ghost? " It is a field for the mani- 
festation of the divine. Some measure of the 
divine glory is to shine in your face, lighted up 
by moral purity and intelligent kindliness. 
Some measure of the divine energy is to reach 
forth in your hand as you stretch it out to 
do good. Some measure of the divine purpose 
is to walk with willing feet in those paths of 
useful service you have chosen. Your body 
is a temple of God. Therefore glorify God in 
that body which is both yours and his. Neither 
the degradation of the body by careless self- 
indulgence nor the mutilation of it by a false 
asceticism, but the consecration of its every 
function to worthy use, presents the command- 
ing Christian ideal. 

Here is a man of mental force. He is pos- 
sessed by a consuming ambition to know. In 
his price-list knowledge and culture are more 
precious than rubies — they are not to be 
valued with much fine gold. He is intent upon 
intellectual mastery. He strives to think, to 
speak and to write in such a way as to com- 
mand interest, win admiration, influence the 
action of his fellowmen. He says with a loud 
voice to all he meets, " Guard thy brain with 
all diligence, for out of it are the issues of 
life." 

Now to every such man there comes this 
word of the Lord. ' ' Take now thy brain power 
which thou lovest and get thee into the land 
of Moriah. ' ' He must not hold his intelligence 
for private enjoyment. He must not think of 
[133] 



The Quest of Life 

it simply as a personal asset which can be 
turned into cash or culture or fame. He must 
stand on Mount Moriah with Abraham and 
make an offering of his mental efficiency. 

He will not be asked to slay a single faculty 
which God has given him. He need not harm 
a hair on the head of any child of his intelli- 
gence. He must see however that knowledge 
and training are not for pride of achievement 
but for investment in useful service. Efficiency 
is not given that he may outrun all his com- 
petitors in the race of life but to enable him to 
have a larger part in bringing up the rear 
guard. And his discovery of the real meaning of 
the superior gift will enable him to go down the 
side of the mountain holding his ability as a 
more sacred possession because he has now re- 
ceived it back from the altar of consecration. 
He has recognized the rights of God in his 
own powers. 

When Booker Washington addresses the 
students at Tuskegee he tells them that the 
word of the Lord has come to him with this 
message, " Take now thy gifts and get thee 
into the land of Moriah." He tells those 
dusky-faced students that they have not come 
to Tuskegee to be trained so that they may 
more successfully compete with their fellows, 
feathering their own nests quickly, making 
them soft and warm. He tells them that they 
have not come to be trained that they may 
go back and establish better homes and higher 
types of family life and then look down with 
[134] 



The Highest Form of Sacrifice 

careless contempt upon the untrained negroes. 
" You have come here to be trained that you 
may become more heavily and capably re- 
sponsible for the welfare of your race in the 
several communities where you are to live." 

This is what they do in the green tree of el 
black man's school. What a stinging rebuke 
to all that selfishness of culture which we find 
here and there in our own more fortunate race ! 
It shows that Booker Washington himself has 
been to Moriah and has there learned the 
deeper meaning of those higher privileges which 
men hold dear. 

Here is a man with a sense of moral superi- 
ority. He is free from those vices which 
enslave weaker men. He has kept himself 
clean from many of the current evils. What 
shall he do with that sense of moral advan- 
tage? It is as dear to him as the child of his 
love. 

He may simply keep it and be proud of it. 
He may indeed take it into the temple and 
stand there beside the Pharisee, saying, 
" Thank God I am not as other men are, 
thieves and liars, drunkards and gamblers. I 
attend church twice in the week. I give bank 
notes to all kinds of good causes. ' ' He may do 
just that if he chooses — no one can say him 
nay. His good name and his freedom from 
certain moral blemishes are as truly his own 
as was Isaac the child of Abraham. 

But what a narrow use to make of moral 
integrity! The Lord says to every such man, 
[135] 



The Quest of Life 

" Get thee out of this mood into a mood that I 
will show thee. ' ' The upright man 's integrity is 
not to be held apart that it may minister to his 
moral pride. He has his share of those qualities 
in which the nations of the earth are blest, but 
this high end is not secured so long as he 
maintains that selfish, separatist mood. He 
must take his moral worth up to Mount Moriah 
for investment in a broader service. He must 
take upon his heart a deeper sense of responsi- 
bility for the moral shame and defeat of those 
other lives. He must enter into a profounder 
sympathy with those who strive and fail ■ — and 
with those who lack the necessary impulse to 
resolutely strive. His own virtues must be 
touched to finer issues by an unselfish parti- 
cipation in the everlasting struggle between 
the higher and lower. Let him enter heartily 
into that fight which is ever on and he will 
receive his moral nature back with a new sense 
of its value. It will seem as if a voice from 
heaven had spoken to him, showing him the 
more excellent way. It will seem to him as if 
an angel's hand had touched his heart, arrest- 
ing him in his mistaken course. Though I 
bestow all my goods to feed the poor and 
though I give my body to be burned and have 
not love for my brother man I am nothing. 

No man is a good man until he faces the fact 
that but for certain advantages of birth and 
training, certain restraining influences* and 
graces, he, too, might have been marked by 
the grosser forms of wrongdoing. No man is 
[136] 



The Highest F or m of Sacrifice 

a good man until, in humble gratitude to God 
and in ready sympathy for his less fortunate 
fellows, he stands ready to utilize his own 
spiritual attainments in aiding those moral 
failures at the foot of the class. When we wit- 
ness the lack of this quality in some respectable 
lives we feel like saying, " Behold the wood, 
but where is the fire and the lamb? Where is 
the warmth of sympathy and the spirit of un- 
selfish devotion? " When God introduces this 
finer element into any such life he provides for 
himself a lamb. 

Once more, here is a life profoundly pos- 
sessed by a beautiful affection for some other 
life. The very sweetness of human existence 
springs from that relationship. The eye kin- 
dles, the cheek flushes with pleasure, and the 
heart leaps with joy when that life appears. 
How many of you know all this, as we say, 
" by heart "1 It is the joy of your life that 
you love and are beloved. " Out of the affec- 
tions," you say, " come all the mightier issues 
of life. ' ' 

How easy it is to find satisfaction in some 
such relationship, chiefly for the delight it 
brings ! And how unworthy it becomes when it 
is thus held apart from the vaster interests 
of human existence. We can understand the 
stiff protest in the Middle Ages which carried 
thousands of their choicest men and women off 
into monasteries and cloisters. The ascetic 
protest, by its very extravagance, testified to 
the presence of a great evil. The sweet inti- 
[137] 



The Quest of Life 

macies between the sexes were being held apart 
for personal gratification only, and the holy 
enthusiasm of that day arrayed itself against 
that practice. It took those gracious affec- 
tions up into Mount Moriah and sacrificed them 
as a burnt offering unto the Lord. 

The method was mistaken but the purpose 
was sound. It is only when love is lifted into 
the light and warmth of an honest effort to 
have the larger fellowship realized that it at- 
tains to its highest estate. The love must be 
sanctified through its consecration to that 
wider undertaking. The man or the woman 
who enjoys to the full the sweetness of per- 
sonal affection should find in his own happi- 
ness an added reason for devoting his life to 
the promotion of the social well-being of his 
fellows. He must take his love to Mount 
Moriah and learn there the deeper implica- 
tions of it as it comes to furnish him with 
impulse for ministering to the heart-hunger of 
those other lives who suffer from loneliness. 
In that open vision it will be seen that the 
dearest affections are not to be held apart as 
exclusively private possessions — they must 
become " social energies ■' for the hastening 
of the brotherhood of man. 

This, then, I take it, is the real meaning of 
the text. " By faith Abraham offered up 
Isaac." Not a drop of the child's blood was 
spilled, yet he was offered. The hand of the 
father was not stained by an act of murder, 
yet his offering was complete. It was not an 
[138] 



The Highest Form of Sacrifice 

offering of destruction, but an offering of con- 
secration, devoting the child 's life to higher 
ends. The boy was to find nobler uses for his 
existence than ministering to the pride and 
joy of an Oriental sheik. He must find his own 
place in that vaster spiritual movement which 
should be genuinely Messianic. Nothing was 
destroyed, yet everything was truly offered. 

Bead the whole narrative in the light of these 
spiritual transactions ! In that great hour the 
highest prevailed. The voice from heaven 
spoke to the affectionate nature of the father. 
He rose above the current practice of his time, 
where human sacrifice was common. He rose 
superior to the narrow' selfishness of his own 
intimate affection. He gratefully accepted the 
rights of God in the child of his love, and he 
walked down the mountainside resolved to 
consecrate that unfolding life anew to the 
service of the greatest ideals he cherished. 

Bring up your own choicest and dearest 
gifts to Mount Moriah. Bring your sound 
health — it is not yours for careless, pleasur- 
able indulgence, nor is it to be neglected or 
scornfully flung away by any mistaken asceti- 
cism. I beseech you by the mercy of God that 
ye present your bodies a living, not a half- 
dead, sacrifice unto God, holy and acceptable, 
for this is your reasonable service. Invest that 
splendid vigor in the service of less fortunate 
lives. 

Bring up your mental powers — they are not 
to minister to your own pride of achievement, 
[ 139 ] 



The Quest of Life 

nor are they to be destroyed by ill-advised mor- 
tification. It is the glory of any life to rise 
to its full stature that it may have the more 
to lay upon the altar of service. Let your own 
intellectual efficiency minister to those un- 
trained, unprivileged lives. 

Bring your moral superiority, not that you 
may lord it over the spiritual failures around 
you, not that you may fling it away in Bo- 
hemian carelessness, but that you may invest 
it in the service of those who suffer moral 
defeat. 

Bring that sweet and sacred affection of your 
life and let it become to you an unfailing source 
of motive and stimulus for the brightening of 
those hungry and lonely lives which await your 
help. By this action you will find that high 
quality of being which you are in danger of 
losing — you will find your life by losing it in 
the service of the living God. 



[140] 



IX 
BROKEN PLANS 



"They assayed to go into Bithynia but the Spirit 
suffered them not And passing by Mysia they came 
to Troas. —Acts xvi, 7, 8. 



IX 
BROKEN PLANS 

THIS does not sound like a promising text 
— it sounds more like a lesson in geog- 
raphy. But there is a world of meaning 
wrapped up in those unfamiliar names. Set 
them in order ! Dress them up in their proper 
associations. Give them a chance to talk and 
they will tell you a story. 

Bithynia, Mysia, Troas! They are not mere 
names. They are not just places on the map 
of that ancient and half -forgotten world. They 
are experiences. They are phases of feeling, 
personal, vital, significant. They are moods 
through which some of you have been passing 
during the last twelve months. 

Here is the story, briefly sketched. Saul of 
Tarsus, or Paul, as he came to be called, was 
an Asiatic. He was born and reared on that 
continent which has shown itself preeminently 
the home of religious faith, of moral vision, of 
spiritual insight. All the great religions of the 
world are Asiatic in their origin — Hinduism, i 
Buddhism, Confucianism, Shintoism, Moham- 
medanism, Judaism, Christianity. They were 
all born in Asia, where this man Paul was born. 
[143] 



The Quest of Life 

And he had been working successfully as an 
apostle of the new faith in Asia. He had been 
preaching in the cities of Jerusalem, Damascus 
and Antioch. He had planted church after 
church upon that continent which had been so 
fruitful in religious influence. He had aided 
in the development of flourishing Christian 
communities in many parts of Syria and Asia 
Minor. 

He was now purposing to go north into the 
beautiful province of Bithynia. It lies on the 
shores of the Black Sea. It is just across the 
Bosphorus from the site of the modern city 
of Constantinople. But when Paul and his 
friends moved out in that direction something 
happened. We are not told exactly what — 
he does not go into details. But he believed, in 
the light of what occurred later, that it was 
providential. " The Spirit/ ' he says, " suf- 
fered us not to go into Bithynia. ' ' They found 
obstacles in the way which were insurmount- 
able. They were compelled to give up their 
plan altogether. " And passing by Mysia, 
they came to Troas." There at Troas, on the 
shore of the ^Egean Sea, a place forever mem- 
orable in the life of this forceful man, came 
the vision of the man of Macedonia which car- 
ried him across the iEgean into Europe. It 
opened up the most important work of his life, 
the planting of Christianity on the continent 
of Europe. 

He gave up his plan to enter a province, 
and God gave him a continent. Europe was 
[ 144 ] 



Broken Plans 

even then taking the right of the line. Eome 
ruled the world, and Rome was in Europe. 
The two leading literatures of that day were 
the Greek and the Latin, and they were both 
European. The wealth of the world was 
rapidly flowing to those cities on the other side 
of the Mediterranean because the European 
countries were taking the lead in commerce and 
trade. 

Here to the west was that continent which 
for two thousand years should exercise a dom- 
inant influence upon the life of the whole race, 
such as Asia in all that period never ap- t 
proached. It was worth while to upset this 
man's plans to enter Bithynia. It was worth* 
while to cut across the grain of his own wish 
and expectation in order to set the feet of a 
mighty apostle upon the continent of Europe. 
His lips were opened upon the ears of Europe 
as he proclaimed the gospel of the Son of God. 
He assayed to go into lovely Bithynia, but the 
Spirit suffered him not, and passing by Mysia 
he came to Troas and on to Europe. 

He scarcely knew what he was saying when 
he ascribed this change of plan to the action 
of the divine spirit. His action, however, has 
received abundant justification at the hands of 
recorded history. Under the moral power of 
that gospel which he carried that day across 
the .ZEgean, Europe has gained a clear ascen- 
dancy over all the other continents of the world 
in the development and in the expression of 
Christian impulse. The sublimest manifesta- 
[145] 



The Quest of Life 

tions of Christian sentiment we know in Chris- 
tian art and in Christian architecture, in Chris- 
tian music and in Christian literature, have 
come, not from Asia, where Christianity was 
i born, but from Europe, where Paul and his 
fellow-missionaries carried their gospel that 
day when they crossed from Troas to Mace- 
donia. 

The great Christian cathedrals — Cologne and 
Milan, St. Peter's and Notre Dame, Durham, 
York and Canterbury — are all in Europe ; 
there is nothing to match them in Asia. The 
Madonnas and Transfigurations, the Crucifix- 
ions and Ascensions, which adorn the great 
galleries, were all painted in Europe. The 
sublime oratorios, Elijah and Saint Paul, the 
Stabat Mater and the Messiah, which lift the 
souls of men heavenward, were all composed 
in Europe. The great Christian epics of Dante 
and Milton, the " In Memoriam " of Tenny- 
son and the noble Christian poems of Brown- 
ing were all written on the continent of Eu- 
rope. It was the fate of a soul, and that soul 
the soul of a continent, the soul of a mighty, 
enduring civilization which Paul bore with him 
that day when he suffered that interruption of 
his plans. He was turned by the spirit of him 
who is from everlasting to everlasting from a 
lovely little province into a broad continent of 
moral opportunity. 

But this story is not mere ancient history. 
It is not merely an impressive lesson in 
geography. It is a broad, thick slice of every- 
[146] 



Broken Plans 

day experience. The movements of those men 
indicated in the text are like a page from the 
life-history of men and women who are sitting 
in this church. We have all fixed our eyes and 
set our hearts upon some lovely province only 
to be faced toward some more magnificent but 
more difficult continent of spiritual opportu- 
nity. Let me study with you then the real 
content of this passage as it bears upon our 
personal interests. 

First of all, many of our best-laid plans to 
enter Bithynia fail and have to be abandoned. 
Bithynia was an open, lovely, inviting region. 
It has a sky like that of Italy. Its climate is 
equal to that of California. It stands as a 
beautiful symbol of a long list of desirable 
objects. 

We lay our plans to possess them, for they 
seem altogether good. We make those plans 
not in malice or wickedness but reverently, 
discreetly, soberly, and in the fear of God. We 
are not seeking to harm the interests of any of 
our fellows — we move out possessed of the 
heartiest good will in all our plans. The en- 
tire purpose we cherish is as honest and sincere 
as the purpose of the apostle when he assayed 
to go into Bithynia to preach his gospel. 

Eight there something happens! It may be 
any one of a hundred things. We may suffer 
the loss of all our property by fire or flood, by 
shipwreck or by earthquake. It may be there 
comes a shrinkage in the value of certain se- 
curities and we find ourselves cramped. There 
[147] 



The Quest of Life 

may come a long period of hindering and ex- 
pensive illness, and when we set forth again 
we find our former vigor crippled and broken. 
There may come the death of some dear one 
with whose life all our plans for happiness 
are bound up. The disappointment may come 
in any one of a hundred ways — but it comes. 
Our plans are torn to pieces and scattered to 
the four winds. " The best laid schemes o' 
mice and men gang aft a-gley; and leave us 
naught but grief and pain for promised joy." 
We assayed to go into Bithynia, but it could 
not be done — the Spirit suffered us not. If 
the hand of the Almighty, heavier than the 
Matterhorn, had been set across our path, the 
hindrance could not have been more complete. 
The plan we made so carefully and lovingly 
was wrecked. 

When boys and girls set out early in the 
morning with sound health, the good red blood 
running and leaping and praising God in their 
veins, the road to Bithynia does not seem long. 
Their minds are filled to the brim with visions 
and dreams of possible achievement ahead. 
They hope to reach Bithynia before night. 
Their hearts, all undisturbed as yet by the 
memory of past failures, are beating high with 
joyous anticipation of all that the beautiful 
province may be made to yield. It looks like 
a plain, straight course. There is the place of 
their desire, there is Bithynia, just this side 
of the marble domes and minarets of some 
beautiful Constantinople. 
[148] 



Broken Plans 

But go to them after twenty, thirty, forty 
years have passed and you find them in an- 
other mood. The road to Bithynia was longer 
and harder than they had supposed. They have 
become, many of them, mellow, tender, remi- 
niscent. And alas, some of them by their disap- 
pointment have become sour, morose and 
defiant. It was a steep, rough road they had 
to travel. There were obstacles and adversaries 
in every mile of it. Many of them never 
reached Bithynia at all. The place of their 
desire in material prosperity, or in genuine 
achievement in their chosen callings, or in 
personal happiness, they never reached. It 
is still away yonder beyond their grasp. 
" Circumstances, ' ' they say, " suffered us not. 
Our plans were broken and here we are, hun- 
dreds of miles from Bithynia. ' ' It is a common 
experience. The only people who never fail 
are people who never attempt much. 

It may be that you were shut out of Bithy- 
nia by your own wrongdoing. Your plans \ 
broke down and you were compelled to admit 
that it was your own fault. This is hardest 
of all. You did not mean to do it ! You knew 
better; your heart was honest, more honest 
than your deed ! But the temptation came and 
your hand was reached out in the wrong direc- 
tion. Your lips opened and you uttered words 
which were not true; and the harm was done. 
Your will had gone lame and it allowed you to 
fall into actions which brought defeat to the 
day dreams of those earlier years. 
[149] 



\. 



The Quest of Lif e 

We understand all about it ! Is there a man 
or a woman past forty who has not done just 
that? Here we are, miles and miles from that 
particular Bithynia which once rose before us 
( beautiful and appealing! We can scarcely 
realize to-day how accessible it once seemed. 
Our plans failed and we felt a profound sense 
of disappointment. " Of all sad words of 
tongue or pen, the saddest are these, it might 
have been." The man who might have been, 
and is not — here is a source of pathos indeed ! 

In the second place, it ought to be remem- 
bered that there is another plan in existence 
all the while. Paul was vexed when his plan 
* to enter Bithynia went down in defeat. He had 
a temper, as every man has who achieves 
anything. He did not know about this other 
plan as we know it now. He had not seen that 
man of Macedonia in a vision. He did not know 
that the moral need, the spiritual hunger of 
Europe, was fairly beckoning to him across the 
.ZEgean. He had not seen his gospel becom- 
ing a mighty influence in that city on the seven 
hills, as he was privileged to see it before he 
finished his course. He had not seen Geneva 
and Wittenberg, Canterbury and Edinburgh, 
there in that new continent of Europe, becom- 
ing mighty centers of spiritual power from 
which Christian influence would radiate to the 
ends of the earth. 

He may have felt that there was some good 
reason for his not being allowed to enter the 
little province — he was a man who walked by 
[150] 



Broken Plans 

faith and not by sight — but the reason was 
hidden. The whole splendid justification of his 
disappointment that day lay in the future. If 
he could have seen, he would have rejoiced. 
If any man could see that higher, vaster plan 
which enfolds us, taking up our limitations into 
its completeness, he would move out on that new 
line of action, contrary to all his expectations 
though it might be with a sense of serene joy. 

" There 's a divinity that shapes our ends, 
rough hew them how we will." God knew 
what he was doing when by the force of cir- 
cumstances and by the action of his own Spirit 
on the hearts of men he caused those first fresh 
impulses of Christian zeal to move north and 
west rather than to the south and east. They 
moved in the direction where empire lay. They 
took the route which enabled them to enlist 
under the banner of Christ the ruling forces 
in human affairs in that day and in modern 
civilization. It was all done in fulfillment of 
that vaster plan, too far-reaching for imme- 
diate comprehension by those men who saw 
their little plans for Bithynia go down in de- 
feat. In every hour of dark uncertainty, re- 
member that! In every such hour look up 
and say, " God reigns, let the people rejoice." 

The story of George MacDonald's own life 
has always interested me more than any of 
his stories. He was ordained as a Congrega- 
tional minister. He was settled over a small 
parish with a small salary. He lived simply 
however and made it suffice. He preached the 
[151] 



The Quest of Life 

truths of the New Testament to the little con- 
gregation with great frankness and vigor. But 
the lines of theology were more tightly drawn 
then than they are to-day, and one can easily 
understand how the author of Eobert Falconer 
might not have been quite acceptable to a very 
orthodox little congregation in old England. 

One day the deacons came to him and told 
him they could not raise his salary any longer. 
He was simple as a child in his trust — he never 
suspected their real purpose. " Very good," 
he said, " give me what you can and I will 
earn something by writing and by taking a few 
pupils, and we will manage.' ' But his wife, 
with a woman's quicker intuition, came to him 
the next day and said, " George, it is not a 
question of salary. The people here don't want 
us because of your teaching. ' ' And that ended 
his first and only regular pastorate. His plan 
to be a settled Congregational minister went 
down in defeat. He was too simple and direct 
for those particular deacons. 

He went to the city of Manchester, support- 
ing himself and his family by teaching and by 
writing books. He preached every Sunday 
somewhere. He was driven out into an irregu- 
lar but what proved to be a very much larger 
ministry. He won a considerable following in 
Manchester. He then went to London, and first 
in a suburb and then down among the work- 
ing people he preached the gospel of the Son 
of man. The place where he preached came to 
be thronged. 

[152] 



Broken Plans 

In a most effective little sketch Dr. William 
Burnett Wright has described the service 
as he witnessed it. The people waited 
in a hush of expectancy. Then George Mac- 
Donald came into the pulpit, not in cleri- 
cal dress — that day he wore a gray suit and 
a red necktie. He read the Scriptures as he 
could read them, the eleventh chapter of He- 
brews, that morning. Then a simple prayer, 
then a hymn, and then he began to talk. " We 
have heard of these men of f eyth, ' ' he said. ' ' I 
am not going to tell you what f eyth is — there 
are plenty of clergymen to do that. I am going 
to try to help you to believe." And he talked 
for an hour and fifteen minutes. When he 
finished, the sigh of respiration which accom- 
panies a return to ordinary consciousness and 
the deep sense of fellowship with a world un- 
seen, testified to the fact that his word was 
with power. In that suburb of London, then 
among the working people, then in Italy where 
he was driven by ill health, he carried on his 
work as a minister at large. He assayed to go 
into Bithynia, into some settled parish, but I 
the Spirit — aye, the Spirit, though he used 
a group of unruly deacons — suffered him not. 
He was taken away from a little parish and 
sent forth upon a spiritual ministry which be- 
came continental in its influence. 

You may have the door shut in your face 

with a slam. And it may be done under God's 

own eye to turn your mind away from that 

petty, meager success into something that has 

[153] 



The Que st of Life 

dimensions and contents. You can afford to 
let Bithynia go if God is granting yon instead 
a great section of Europe. 

Here is a young fellow who thinks he will 
go into business and make a lot of money, or 
into law, or medicine, or engineering. Either 
line will offer him an attractive career — as 
attractive as Bithynia. But there is no com- 
plaint in the world of commerce that there are 
not men enough there to do the business of 
the world. The lawyers are not passing resolu- 
tions to the effect that there are not lawyers 
enough to attend to the legal business of the 
world. When we ride through the streets 
and see the doctors' signs, we feel that there 
are physicians enough to take care of the sick 
people. 

But there is a calling where there are not 
enough of men with energy and good sense, 
with warm sympathy and genuine character, to 
furnish spiritual leadership in the work of the 
ministry. From every state of the Union and 
from every branch of the church there comes 
a call for more men of the right sort to enter 
the ministry. It may be that something will 
occur to change your plan. If the Spirit should 
not allow you to enter any of those other pro- 
fessions and should turn your thought and 
determination to the ministry of Christ you 
would feel that among all the good things of 
life God had given you the best. You would 
feel that you had surrendered a province, in 
order to possess a continent of opportunity. 
[154] 



Broken Plans 

We may still encounter difficulties, even when 
our plans are changed by the Spirit of God. 
It was so with Paul. When he was obedient 
to his heavenly vision, when he was true to 
his best moments following the gleam and not 
the groove, he still encountered obstacles. You 
remember what occurred when he crossed the 
-/Egean to help that beseeching man in Mace- 
donia. He did not find any beseeching man. \ 
He did not find Europe so eager for the gospel 
that it could not sleep nights. He found a few 
bigoted Jews who persecuted him; some half- - 
crazy soothsayers and spiritualists who an- 
noyed him; and some Roman officials who put 
him in prison. He crossed the iEgean, his face 
shining and his heart leaping for joy because 
of the vision he had seen, but before the chap- 
ter ends he was in jail. That was what he\ 
actually found when his plan for Bithynia went 
down in defeat and he took a new course. 

Nevertheless, his vision was sound to the 
core. Read on! Read on and you will hear 
him chanting his hymn of praise as he moves 
ahead in his Christian work on that continent 
of Europe. " None of these things move me, 
neither count I my life dear, that I might finish 
my course with joy and the ministry which I 
have received of the Lord Jesus.' ' 

Difficulties — of course there are difficulties ! 
Blessed be God that life is not all easy-going, 
plain sailing under blue skies and on quiet 
seas. What a soft, pulpy, characterless lot of 
people would be turned out at the end of the 
[155] 



The Quest of Life 

voyage if that w.ere all we encountered! 
Sailors are developed by sailing the high seas 
in all weathers, not by paddling their canoes 
around some millpond. Men are made by the 
same sort of discipline. 

" Then welcome each rebuff which bids thee 
neither sit nor stand, but go." It is facing 
obstacles and mastering them that transforms 
\ boys into men. It is meeting difficulty and 
disappointment bravely and patiently that lifts 
the rosy-cheeked girl at last into the nobler 
beauty of ripened womanhood. Let those plans 
for the easy, prosperous, joyous career break 
if they must, provided only that means the gain- 
ing of a life ennobled and abundant. ' 

Here were regiments of fat, sleek, well- 
groomed people sobbing and sighing over the 
vanity of human existence at the very hour 
when two celebrated invalids on their beds of 
pain were singing their songs of hope and high 
resolve to the whole English-speaking race. 
Robert Louis Stevenson, lying for months on 
a sick-bed because he had not strength to either 
sit or stand, propped up with pillows and 
coughing his life out with a hopeless disease, 
was nevertheless writing in rugged story, in 
splendid verse and in magnificent spiritual ap- 
peal those words which bade his fellows play 
the man. He was playing it himself and his 
word was with power. 

And William Ernest Henley, seeing his cher- 
ished plans go down in hopeless defeat before 
the inroads of disease, was none the less in all 
[156] 



Broken Plans 

weathers asserting that he was " master of his 
fate," he was " captain of his soul.' ' The 
world will not forget his words regarding his 
own rapidly-approaching death. 

" So be my passing, 
My task accomplished and the long day done, 
My wages taken, and in my heart 
Some late lark singing. 
Let me be gathered to the quiet west, 
The sun-down splendid and serene." 

Let your cherished plan break if it must ! 
It may be only a signal from the flagship bid- 
ding you tack and shape your course with 
reference to some vaster, more rewarding 
achievement. 

The one great thing is to keep your hearty 
sensitive so that you will feel the motions of 
the Spirit. " The' Spirit suffered us not to go 
into Bithynia." I would not dogmatize, but 
I have a feeling that the obstacle was not out- 
ward and visible but inward and spiritual. 
Paul intended to go into that lovely little prov- 
ince, but when the time came somehow he could 
not do it. He had to change his course. He 
was compelled against his own wish to turn 
aside and tackle that vaster work of planting 
the banner of Christ upon the continent of 
Europe. He must make his gospel a dominat- 
ing influence in the lives of those mightier 
nations. He had to do it — his heart was ten- 
der and sensitive so that he reacted under the 
touch of the divine spirit impelling him to seek 
that greater opportunity for Christian service. 
[157] 



The Quest of Life 

If any young man has set forth with the 
idea that success in life means feathering his 
own nest, making it soft and warm and com- 
fortable, let him know that his plan will en- 
counter the stiffest sort of opposition at the 
hands of the Spirit. God does not suffer any 
man to sink to that level without a struggle 
to lift him to something better. 

And if the young man should persist in that 
course and gain what he might deem a gen- 
erous measure of success there in his own little 
Bithynia he would hear echoes of struggle and 
achievement on higher levels which would make 
him feel that after all he had miserably failed. 

" In this world ye shall have tribulation " 
— thlipsis was the word Christ used. It means 
pressure, opposition, difficulty. " But be of 
good cheer, I have overcome." And because 
he has, we also in his strength may overcome. 
Keep your heart sensitive to the divine spirit 
by right thinking and honest living so that he 
will be able to turn you here or there as he 
sees best. Then you may be sure that he will 
take you forth upon a continent of spiritual 
opportunity where you will see and do and 
become all that belongs to the larger life of 
the children of God. 



[158] 



X 



THE MEASURE OF HUMAN 
RESPONSIBILITY 



The "heavens are the Lord's 

But the earth hath he given to the children of men. 

— Psalm cxv, 16. 



THE MEASURE OF HUMAN 
RESPONSIBILITY 

THE men who wrote the proverbs and the 
psalms felt that it was not good for any 
truth to be alone. They took single truths and 
married them, sending them out in pairs. You 
are all familiar with the literary antithesis and 
parallelism which runs through those two 
books. " The Lord knoweth the way of the 
righteous, but the way of the ungodly shall 
perish. ,, " Weeping may endure for a night, 
but joy cometh in the morning." " A wise son 
maketh a glad father, but a foolish son is the 
heaviness of his mother." " The Lord is thy 
keeper, the Lord is thy shade upon thy right 
hand." There are hundreds of them, thou- 
sands of them — the larger part of the reli- 
gious instruction in those two books comes to 
us paired off in couples. 

It was more than a pet literary fancy with 
those men. It was one of the ways by which 
they secured poise and balance in their teach- 
ing. They treated their sentences like boats. 
They made them trim by loading them on both 
sides. They knew that a single strong state- 
[161] 



The Quest of Life 

ment standing alone, with nothing heard from 
the other side of the case, is often misleading 
and dangerous. The cranks, the bigots, the 
fanatics are made by having some one tremen- 
dous truth aboard. Not being stocked and 
balanced with other truths, not being well- 
rounded men, this one big truth capsizes them. 
These wise old writers formed the habit, there- 
fore, of linking together two truths, thus add- 
ing to the literary charm of their style and 
securing for their teaching a fuller measure of 
well-rounded completeness. 

The text is one of those double statements. 
" The heavens are the Lord's, the earth he has 
given to the children of men." You see in- 
stantly the picture that hung in the mind of 
the psalmist. ' ' The heavens ' y — the sun, the 
moon and the stars, the walls and battlements 
of clouds, the sweep and rush of the mighty 
winds, the fierce glare of the lightning and the 
gentler ministries of the rain and dew — all 
these " are the Lord's." They are entirely 
under his control — man has never gotten his 
hands on them. Man has never soiled or 
stained them by his sin. He has never warped 
or twisted them out of their original purpose 
by any ugly desire of his own. He has never 
dragged them down to make them common or 
unclean. 

The heavens are just as God made them. 

Everything is where he put it — not a hand 

has touched it since. There is no disorder, for 

the heavens are the perfect, unchanging ex- 

[162] 



Human Responsibility 

pression of his thought. The sky you saw last 
night was the one Jesus saw, the one Abraham 
came out of his tent to see, the one in which 
the morning stars sang together and the sons 
of God shouted for joy. The heavens are un- 
alterably and eternally the Lord's. 

But the earth is given to the children of men. 
The old, familiar earth, with its man-made 
cities and towns, with its paved streets, its 
plowed fields, its planted gardens — the prints 
of men's fingers are upon all these. You can 
see upon them at this moment the grime and 
sweat of men's hands. They bear the marks 
of man's blunders ; they share in his littleness ; 
they are spotted here and there by his sin. 

The earth is given to the children of men, 
and men are constantly changing it. They hew 
down forests and plant fields. They irrigate 
the desert and make it blossom like a garden. 
They build barns and banks and stores and 
then tear them down and build greater. They 
lay the earth out in streets and lanes that they 
may travel through it — when they learn to 
ride swiftly they make a racetrack of it for 
their railroads and their steamships. The sun 
in his course looks down each day and sees 
something new to remind him that the earth 
is given to the children of men. Here on this 
common earth we are perpetually working out 
our thoughts and schemes. While the heavens 
remain unchangeably the Lord's, the earth is 
given over to the children of men. 

The text suggests these two thoughts, the 
[163] 



The Quest of Life 

limits and the measure of human responsibility. 
Let me speak of them in order. 

When we think of what men have done and 
are doing we are amazed. They build steel 
roads and ride across continents at the rate 
of sixty miles an hour in moving clubhouses. 
They build their steamships and plow their way 
through the ocean in all winds and weathers, 
never deflected from their course by the stress 
of the storm. They stretch their wires and 
with a flash of lightning which they have caught 
and tamed they send their messages around the 
earth in the twinkling of an eye. They talk 
with one another in far distant cities, hearing 
the tones and inflections of the individual voice. 
They build their great bridges, climbing over 
the tops of the loftiest masts that the course 
of traffic, by land or by sea, may suffer no in- 
terruption. They bore under the Hudson 
river and run their trains straight into the 
heart of Manhattan, landing their passengers 
on Broadway. In a little more than fifty years 
they build a city like Chicago, with its won- 
derful structures and its yet more wonderful 
life, eager, energetic, mighty. They cut the 
continents in two at Panama, and join the 
oceans that ships may pass in a day from the 
Atlantic to the Pacific. When you think of 
what man has done and is doing you stand un- 
covered before his splendid and rapid achieve- 
ments. 

But the simplest of us, by a turn of the face, 
may look up into a vast field where the earth 
[164] 



Human Responsibility 

is a sand speck, where man has never done 
anything. The heavens are the Lord's — man 
has never laid a plank nor driven a stake nor 
accomplished anything there. Man may think 
hard and swell with pride; he may bare his 
arm and walk to and fro with great strides, 
but the heavens, by their silent majesty, in- 
struct him to be humble. The larger things 
are all the Lord's. 

The universal forces are not under our con- 
trol. The great abiding order symbolized by 
the phrase the psalmist used is something which 
we must accept. We are compelled to sit down 
before it and say, " Thy will be done.'' We 
cannot impose upon it our own wills. When 
we look down we may be exalted with pride 
over what we have done on this earth, but look- 
ing up into the heavens which are the Lord's 
we become reverent and modest. 

This sense of limitation is conducive to hu- 
mility. Man's earthly life is in some measure 
under his control. He may say, " I will live 
in New York, or in Chicago, or in San Fran- 
cisco," — and he may go and live there. He 
may say, " I will live in a frame house, or in 
a brick house, or in a tent," — and he may 
build himself such habitation. The earthly life 
is given to the children of men. But the 
heavens suggest a life where we feel our help- 
lessness. At death all men become alike poor 
and dependent. We stand at the open casket 
and say, l ' We brought nothing into this world ; 
and it is certain we can carry nothing out." 
[165] 



The Quest of Life 

We have nothing to take with us. We own 
nothing there; we have bnilt nothing there; 
we are entering a world where everything is 
the Lord's. The very thought of it induces 
the mood where men confess their need of the 
mercy and help of God. We become as little 
children that we may enter the kingdom. 
Whatever may have been our earthly achieve- 
ments, when we face the heavens we feel our 
dependence upon him. 

In the matter of appropriation also we feel 
the sense of our limitations. Children love to 
write their names in the dust of some country 
road or upon the sand at the beach. And 
grown people do the same. Men go about writ- 
ing their names on the earth — " My corner 
lot, My front yard, My farm ! All these broad 
acres are mine." We fence in our little pieces 
of soil, for the earth is given to the children 
of men. 

But who owns that stretch of country be- 
tween the four corners of the Great Dipper? 
Who holds the title to that strip of territory 
half a mile up in the air, within ten minutes' 
walk if we could walk that way? Your eye 
sweeps over countless infinite acres of open 
country there in the blue — all that, you say, 
is the Lord's. Men cannot fence it in nor 
claim it for private" ends. Eise a few hundred 
feet into the air and human ownership is over. 
Men may buy and sell, rent and appropriate 
the earth if they will, but the wider, roomier 
regions remain unalterably the Lord's. 
[166] 



Human Responsibility 

There is comfort in this thought. The grasp- 
ing hands of men have taken possession of only 
one little spot in God's universe — the larger 
regions which constitute the enduring home of 
the race are his. Here on earth thousands of 
people live in narrow, wretched alleys, in 
crowded tenements, because they can get noth- 
ing better. The more prosperous and success- 
ful, with stronger hands and clearer heads, 
have taken up the better portions of the earth. 
The present inequalities of condition are a 
standing reproach to our Christian civiliza- 
tion. They constitute a challenge to the Chris- 
tian conscience. In view of these inequalities 
which seem inevitable until we have learned 
the lesson of unselfishness, the thought of the 
text brings comfort. The present allotments 
are not permanent. " We have here no con- 
tinuing city — we seek one. ' ' The distribution 
and the apportionments as they are now made 
will not stand. The heavens are forever the 
Lord's, and the man striving to live a true life 
hears a voice from the unseen say, " In my 
Father's house are many mansions. I go to 
prepare a place for you. Whosoever will may 
come." The soul, in its hour of defeat through 
the meagerness of its opportunity, need not 
despair. 

The advantages of earth are controlled by 
the children of men — education and travel, the 
culture of good books, of fine music, of rare 
works of art. All these belong to men; they 
can only be had for money. The poor are 
[167] 



The Quest of Life 

denied them because they must be paid for 
before they can be enjoyed. But heaven's ad- 
vantages, the culture of the spirit which comes 
through prayer, from divine grace, from fellow- 
ship with the Most High, from the cherishing 
of a noble aspiration, from a firmly held hope 
of life eternal — these are the Lord's. No man 
can corner these advantages into a monopoly 
or lock them up in his store to be sold for gain. 
They are given without money and without 
price. Whosoever will may take them freely. 

And these are the means of culture which 
enter most powerfully into life. In the build- 
ing of manhood and womanhood they count as 
do no other advantages. The daily, hourly 
culture of striving to live a sincere Christian 
life, open to any man and every man, exceeds 
any other single advantage to be named. And 
these advantages can be had on the easiest 
terms. Ask and you receive. Seek and you 
find. Knock and the door opens into the treas- 
ure house of the unseen. Blessed be God that 
he has kept the precious things in his own 
hands, to be given freely to all who wait upon 
him for the renewal of their strength. 

The sense of limitation is evident also in 
the matter of control. On many fields of earth 
man is master. He lays out his railroads and 
writes their timetables. He arranges his winter 
trains and his summer trains. He changes the 
routes as he will. He decides that the South- 
ern Pacific shall no longer run around Great 
Salt Lake but straight across by the Lucin cut- 
[168] 



Human Responsibility 

off. He decides that this mountain shall no 
longer remain a barrier — he tunnels straight 
through it. He will not suffer the river or 
the bay to impede his advance — he bridges 
them or bores under them, moving ahead in his 
triumphant course. 

But who maps out the paths the planets take 
in their courses? Who calls the sun to come 
out of his chamber, rejoicing like a strong 
man to run a race? Who appoints the sta- 
tions where he arrives punctual to the second? 
The heavens have a map of their own where 
our little distances are minute. They have a 
time-card of their own; worlds, planets and 
suns, in a great, interlocking, interlacing sys- 
tem, rolling, swinging swifter than a thought, 
without a jar or a mistake. Here there is 
nothing of human control — here in this per- 
fect harmony we find that which is unchange- 
ably the Lord's. 

Men may calculate months in advance the 
positions of those swiftly moving planets and 
rely upon their movements with absolute cer- 
tainty. If you are an astronomer you may know 
where every heavenly body will be five hun- 
dred years from now, and if you should wait 
and keep the tryst not one of them would fail 
you. In the last century a total eclipse of the 
sun was to occur which could be best observed 
from a point on the west coast of Africa. The 
English government fitted out an expedition 
to make the observations. The vessel carried 
the finest instruments the royal purse could 
[169] 



The Quest of Life 

provide and the most eminent scientists to 
make an accurate study of the phenomena con- 
nected with the eclipse. The expedition ar- 
rived at the appointed place; the day of the 
eclipse came; the hour came. The men of 
science were standing with their instruments 
and their chronometers at hand. One of them 
remarked to another, " Unless we have made 
some mistake in our calculations the eclipse 
should begin at once. ' ' Instantly the dark edge 
of the moon was seen starting across the face 
of the sun! Punctual to a second! The hea- 
venly bodies are the Lord's, and God is never 
late! Let man with his late trains and his 
broken appointments confess the uncertainty 
of all things earthly. The heavens move on in 
unbroken harmony picturing the methods of 
the Almighty. 

The same principle holds in the spiritual 
world. Here God has made his own appoint- 
ments. The way of the transgressor is hard 
— the orbit of a planet is not more sure. The 
way of righteousness is a way of peace and 
joy — the course of the sun is not more certain. 
The Lord has decreed that men should be saved 
by repentance and faith, by turning away from 
evil and by maintaining a certain personal rela- 
tion to himself. He has put it down in black 
and white in the Bible, in the moral conscious- 
ness of men, and in the accumulated experiences 
of the ages. 

Where men undertake to write new time- 
cards for the spiritual world, where they under- 
[170] 



Human Responsibility 

take to climb up some other way, they make 
themselves ridiculous. They might as well 
undertake to have the sun rise an hour earlier 
to-morrow morning. They might as well 
attempt to postpone the full moon for a week 
next May to meet the needs of some garden 
party. When we seek to alter the laws of moral 
advance or to set the spiritual universe run- 
ning on new lines, we forget that the heavens 
are the Lord's. Man does not make, nor con- 
trol, this upper world. Its laws and conditions 
are established of old. Men are only saved as 
they conform and adjust themselves to the 
spiritual order where God is supreme. 

But a large measure of responsibility is given 
to the children of men. The earth is the sphere 
of our activity and of our obligation. Grace is 
given, not primarily to take man to heaven 
but to enable him to order his course in wisdom 
and conscience here upon the ground. We are 
not to long for golden streets — it is our part 
to make our own streets clean and safe. We 
are not to fix our eyes upon pearly gates — 
we are to build the gates of these earthly cities 
high and strong, shutting out the vice and crime 
which now disfigures. We are to live by the 
power of an endless life, but live here, grap- 
pling with these everyday problems and duties. 
The earth is given to the children of men as 
the field where they are to express those prin- 
ciples which come from an eternal world. 

Religion is a high and a holy interest. It 
is fine enough to dress the children of the king 

[171] 



The Quest of Life 

to appear in his courts on the Sabbath. It 
is fine enough to clothe them to appear be- 
fore his throne in the world to come. But 
true religion has a plain and homely quality 
— it will wash on Monday and wear well 
throughout the week. It concerns itself with 
this common earth. It undertakes to so possess 
men and women by a new spirit that they will 
show themselves good husbands and good 
wives, honest employers and faithful employ- 
ees, kindly neighbors and upright citizens. If 
the life of earth is made true, pure and kind 
the final entrance into that heaven which is 
the Lord's may well be left to him. 

The truth in all this seems plain, but it has 
oftentimes been overlooked. The leaders > of 
the church have become excited and angry in 
seeking to settle difficult speculative problems 
which belong in the heavens. The precise rela- 
tions of the three persons of the trinity; the 
particular method by which Christ the Son 
made atonement to God the Father for our 
sins ; the exact measure of the human and the 
divine entering into the inspiration of the holy 
Scriptures ; the final outcome of the moral pro- 
cesses at work in the judgment which God will 
visit upon those who fail to do his will — these 
and many other hard questions have at times 
occupied a great part of the attention of the 
Church. 

But all these things are too high for us — 
we cannot attain unto them. They belong in 
the heavens which are the Lord's. I fancy 
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Human Responsibility 

that he cares little about the technical correct- 
ness of our opinions touching matters alto- 
gether beyond our present understanding. 
When we have done our best our views scarcely 
amount to a drop in the bucket. We cannot, 
in the nature of the case, get the infinite ocean 
of being into our half -pint bottles of theological 
definition. It matters little whether we say 
six or six and a half when we are talking of 
these mighty questions — one stops as far 
short of infinity as the other. Many of the 
abstract speculative questions of metaphysics 
may safely be left in the heavens, which are 
the Lord's. 

But the questions of earth are given to us. 
How shall we induce men to buy more bread 
and clothing and books and less rum? How 
shall we deal with the evils of impurity which 
smut and stain many a fine soul ? How shall we 
cast out the devils which infest this modern life ? 
How shall we deal with poverty, not simply in 
alleviation, but in seeking to make people intel- 
ligent, industrious, thrifty, as far as may be, 
self-sustaining? How shall we induce men 
who have capital to invest and men who have 
muscle to sell, to be fair and just, to be coop- 
erative and brotherly? How shall we train 
boys and girls to grow up into Christian life 
as the only normal mode of living? How shall 
we bring comfort and cheer to the weary thou- 
sands who walk in the shadow of grief, who 
are crushed by the weary grind, who stagger 
under heavy loads, who struggle against odds? 
[173] 



The Quest of Life 

How shall we make real the sense of sympathy 
to those broken hearts who have been disap- 
pointed in the dearest aspirations of their 
lives? 

Here are the questions we must face and 
answer ! We can get at them — they are given 
to the children of men. You met them yester- 
day ; you will meet them to-morrow. You know 
every wrinkle in their old faces. Here is where 
the religion of the Lord God is to show itself 
mighty and helpful. We can afford to detach 
our minds from some of those distant problems 
in order to fasten them more firmly upon these 
questions of earth. Here is the immediate field 
of our responsibility. 

But to get the complete thought of the 
psalmist we need to hold those two statements 
in a finer synthesis. " The heavens are the 
Lord 's ' ' — and where are the heavens f Above 
the earth, to the right of the earth, to the left 
of the earth, and underneath the earth. The 
world we know lies immersed, enfolded and 
enswathed in the heavens. They watch over it 
from every corner of the sky. With all their 
suns and stars they look down upon it with 
eyes that never sleep. They send upon it their 
ministries of light and warmth and beauty. 
Each heavenly body, with an arm like God, 
holds the earth to its course by the grip of 
gravitation. The heavens are the Lord's, but 
they take the earth into their keeping and give 
themselves to it in all their rich helpfulness. 

Man's life on earth is surrounded, enfolded 
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Human Responsibility 

and enswathed by another life. " The Eter- 
nal is thy refuge and underneath are the ever- 
lasting arms." We rest under tV shadow of 
his wing. We live and move and have our 
being in him. Our light and warmth came from 
him. The power which holds us true is " the 
Power, not ourselves, that makes for righteous- 
ness. ,, The earth enters upon its springtime, 
upon its new period of promise, by obedience to 
the mandates of the enfolding heavens. Man 
rises to his springtime and enters upon a season 
of nobler fruitage through his cooperation with 
the unfolding love and power of the Heavenly 
Father. The earth cannot live without the 
help of the sky. Man cannot live until he 
dwells in harmonious relations with the life of 
God. Live, then, with your feet upon the solid 
earth, but live also with your head and your 
heart among the stars. 

You may have seen a plant trying to grow 
under a shed. It had soil enough — it had 
eight thousand perpendicular miles of earth 
directly under it. It may be that some man 
watered it daily and pulled away the hindering 
weeds. Still it did not grow. It needed the 
open sky, the sunshine, the dew and the rain. 
It had the earth and all that man could do for 
it, but it needed the heavens, which are the 
Lord 's, that it might come to its full planthood 
and utter itself in a splendid flower. 

You cannot grow under some man-made shed 
which shuts you away from the heavens. 
Plant your life deep in the earth, if you will. 
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The Quest of Life 

Let education and travel, art and music, books 
and companionships do all that they can. 
Strike your roots deep down into all those 
earthly elements which furnish material for 
the abundant life. But when earth's advan- 
tages have done their best the half has not 
been told. See that no shed cuts you off from 
the open vision of the Lord, from a personal 
relationship to those spiritual verities which 
are eternal. See that no doubt or indifference 
robs you of the sunshine of his favor, of the 
dew of his grace, of the showers of blessing 
which wash the life clean and keep it growing. 
Claim for your life all of earth's advantages 
which are within your reach, for these are given 
to the children of men ; but claim also the help 
which comes from out the heaven, which is the 
Lord's. 

" Thou life within my life, than self more near 
Thou veiled presence, infinitely clear. 
From all illusive shows of sense I flee, 
To find my center and my rest in Thee. 

" Take part with me against those doubts which rise 
And seek to throne Thee in far distant skies; 
Take part with me against the self that dares 
Assume the burden of these sins and cares." 



are here. The heavens are the Lord's, and 
they stand ready, with all their powers, to 
minister to this life of earth. 



[176] 



XI 

THE HIGH OFFICE OF SYMPATHY 



" When Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed; 
and when he let down his hand AmaleJc prevailed. But 
Moses' hands were heavy . . . and Aaron and Eur 
stayed up his hands." — Exodus xvii, 11, 12. 



XI 

THE HIGH OFFICE OF SYMPATHY 

IT is not altogether easy to separate the fine 
threads of poetic insight from the coarser 
threads of prose fact in this narrative. The 
story is a coat of many colors and the weave is 
curious. 

The situation was like this: the Israelites 
were journeying through the wilderness toward 
the land of promise. They had secured an 
abundant water-supply among the rocks of 
Horeb for themselves and their thirsty flocks. 
The Amalekites, who were the nomads of that 
region, came out to attack them. Joshua drew 
up the Israelites in battle array, while Moses, 
never a fighter, and now an old man past 
eighty, climbed to the rocky eminence overlook- 
ing the field. He wanted to stand where he 
could see the fighting Israelites ; he wanted to 
stand where the fighting Israelites could see 
him. And he stood there all day long in the 
attitude of Sprayer, stretching out his arms 
toward heaven as if he would draw down help 
from above. The very sight of their devoted 
leader, interceding on their behalf, gave the 
Israelites fresh courage. They fought all the 
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The Quest of Life 

harder, " and it came to pass/' the author says, 
" when Moses held up his hands, Israel 
prevailed! " 

But his hands grew heavy; the strain of 
maintaining unbrokenly that attitude of sup- 
plication was severe. The high task of holding 
himself up to speak face to face with the Al- 
mighty, touching that struggle in the plain 
below, depleted his strength. Now and then he 
relaxed his effort and lowered his hands. 

The battle was so close, the opposing forces 
so evenly matched, that the sight of their leader 
at prayer on their behalf or the lack of it was 
enough to turn the scale. " When Moses held 
up his hands, Israel prevailed; when he let 
them down, Amalek prevailed.' ' Then Aaron 
and Hur came to his support; they stayed 
up his hands, giving him and giving Israel 
that visible assurance of their own sympathy. 
By this reinforcement Moses' hands were 
steadied, his attitude was secure until the go-, 
ing down of the sun. And with that assistance 
to their courage, the Israelites discomfited 
Amalek with the edge of the sword and won a 
glorious victory. 

Let me study with you the implications of 
that scene. First of all, the very sight of those 
three men on the rock was an open pledge of 
human sympathy. It put every Israelite on his 
mettle. How much our leader cares ! His very 
soul is bound up in this fight we are making for 
the ideas and principles of Israel as against 
the lower methods of life represented by 
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The High O ffi c e of Sympathy 

Amalek! He stands there hour after hour 
making* his steady, silent appeal to high heaven 
on our behalf. He will stand there until the 
sun goes down to see us win, and win we must ! 

"What a picture of spiritual reality is here 
painted by this poetic soul! On some higher 
level of spiritual achievement, won by hard 
climbing, there stands a soul knit up with your 
own soul by genuine sympathy. He stands 
there, as you know, making intercession on 
your behalf. He is waiting to see you win. 
And the very sight of his outstretched hands 
and the thought of his uplifted heart gives you 
fresh courage and resolve. His readiness to 
cooperate with you in the fight you are making 
in the dust of the plain below gives every man 
of you the strength of two — sometimes the 
strength of ten. When he lifts up his hands 
toward the source of help you fight hard and 
prevail ; when he lets them down you are liable 
to falter and fail. 

How splendid is the office of human sym- 
pathy, genuinely felt and nobly expressed ! It 
can be seen in many a hard fight where weary 
men and women are bruised and blood-stained. 
When the sympathy of true friends lifts itself 
up into devoted action, the forces of righteous- 
ness prevail; when it droops, the lower ele- 
ments of human nature, doubt, despair, bitter- 
ness, have their chance for victory. Three men 
on a rock, somewhere, indicating that your fight 
is their fight also, as they carry you in their 
hearts, will suffice to turn the scale. You will 
[181] 



The Quest of Life 

be moved to summon all your reserves into 
action and fight it through to a finish. 

And what a loss is involved in the absence 
of that sympathy! The hardest battles do not 
come where men are marching in solid ranks 
with flags flying, drums beating, and shouts of 
coming victory bursting from ten thousand 
throats. The hardest battles are fought where 
some soul faces its own doubts and defeats, 
its own sorrows or its own sins, and struggles 
with them alone. 

Here is a growing boy, seeing the mystery 
of life through a glass darkly. He is tor- 
mented by the memory of mistakes already 
made and fearful of worse things yet to come, 
but unwilling or unable to bring himself to con- 
fide in one who might bring relief — he is fight- 
ing it out alone. Here is an unhappy woman, 
tossing to and fro on her bed through some 
long, lonely night, hearing the hours and half- 
hours strike, but unsustained by the sense of 
any real companionship in her trouble — she 
is treading the wine-press alone! Here is a 
man plunging out into the night, unable to 
sit still, going on and on, he knows not where, 
his mind grinding away on some terrible crisis 
which has come to him — he, too, is carrying 
this bitter cup, wondering whether he shall 
drink it or fling it away. Here are a father and 
mother staggering under some cruel sorrow, 
each trying to be brave for the sake of the 
other and each one going ever and anon to 
fight the battle alone! You know all about it 
[182] 



The High Office of Sympathy 

— many of you do. In that hour of loneliness 
and defeat how much you need that expression 
of sympathy which comes from the sight of 
someone lifting up his hands and his heart 
toward Heaven for you. 

It is a universal need. We find it in the Son 
of Man. He knew the pain of loneliness in 
that moral crisis in his own career. He reached 
out hungrily for human sympathy. " Could ye 
not watch with me one hour? " It was not 
the whine of some weak soul. It was the word 
of One who could say, " I lay down my life 
for the sheep. I have power to lay it down 
and I have power to take it again/ ' He was 
no weakling. But he was in Gethsemane. He 
had seen the hollowness of that popular enthu- 
siasm which one day shouted " Hosanna " and 
the next day turned away in thoughtless in- 
difference or helped swell the cry against him. 
He saw his own life ennobled by its record of 
unwearied service and radiant with benign 
purpose, destined to be nailed upon a cross 
between two thieves. It was a terrible cup 
to be put into the hands of one who came to 
heal the broken-hearted and to set at liberty 
them that are bruised. He went into the gar- 
den to pray and he said to the three men, 
Peter, James and John, ' i Watch with me ! 
Watch with me one hour." He wanted to feel 
them near, awake and sympathetic. But when 
he looked upon them presently, they were all 
asleep. 

Many a life goes down in defeat for the lack 
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The Quest of Life 

of a friendly eye, awake and open, for the lack 
of a warm heart ready with its love, for the 
lack of a strong hand stretched out to help. 
The pity of it is that any life might have all 
three. The growing boy, anxious and troubled, 
would better confide in his father or in the 
old family physician or in some broad-minded, 
big-hearted friend — there is always someone 
who would watch with him all the hours needed 
and thank God for the chance. The woman in 
trouble would better open her heart somewhere 
— the impulse which craves sympathy is of 
God. The business man breaking his heart and 
his health over some financial problem because 
he feels unwilling to cloud the sky of the 
woman he loves, would better take her into 
his confidence. He will find her stronger and 
truer than he ever dreamed. Her happiness 
does not consist in the abundance of things he 
possesses but in him; and she would rejoice 
to share his burden. And if somewhere in 
sight there was another life maintaining that 
attitude of sympathy shown by those three men, 
Moses, Aaron and Hur, on that jutting point 
of rock, it would change defeat into victory. 

The careless observer might have seen on 
the plains of Horeb only a petty squabble be- 
tween some nomads of the desert. But in 
reality it was the everlasting struggle between 
the higher and the lower. It was that nation 
to whom God had said, " I will bless thee and 
thou shalt be a blessing and in thee shall all 
the nations of the earth be blest,' ' pitted 
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The High Office of Sympathy 

against a tribe which never wrote a book nor 
produced a prophet nor did anything to pre- 
pare the way of the Lord. It was the race 
which caught the first gleams of monotheism, 
fighting" against idolators. It was the race 
which carried in its ark of the Covenant and 
in the bosom of its own life the moral prin- 
ciples embodied in the ten commandments, 
fighting against a race of thieves, liars and 
libertines. It was the cause of righteousness 
which was being fought out that day, and to 
the men who were battling for the right, 
however dimly they understood the mighty 
significance of it all, it meant everything to 
have those three leaders stand on the rock until 
the sun went down pledging their interest and 
their sympathy. 

In one of the dramatic stories of the Old 
Testament we find a strong man under a juni- 
per tree. He was called " Elijah, the Tish- 
bite," and his nature was as rugged as his 
name. But there he was, stretched out full 
length, sobbing as if his heart would break. 
Yesterday he faced four hundred priests of 
Baal and won his victory over them as the 
champion of pure worship and clean living. 
To-day you hear this whine from his lips, ' ' Oh, 
Lord, take away my life! I only am left to 
worship Jehovah." 

But a messenger of the Lord came to this 

discouraged man and fed him. He told him to 

lie down and get a good night's sleep. In the 

freshness of the following morning at the be- 

[185] 



The Quest of Life 

ginning of a new day, lie assured the tired 
prophet that there were seven thousand people 
in Israel who had not bowed the knee to Baal. 
He then told Elijah to stand up and do his duty 
before God and man. 

All this was reassuring, but what were those 
seven thousand people doing that day when 
Elijah stood on Mount Carmel alone, fighting 
the battle of righteousness? " The priests of 
Baal are four hundred and fifty men and I only 
remain a prophet of Jehovah. ' ' He had around 
him a company of people halting between two 
opinions. They were trying to carry water on 
both shoulders. They were not of the seven 
thousand who had not bowed the knee to Baal ! 
But why were not some of those seven thousand 
reserves on hand? If there had been a dozen 
of them, or even three of them, like Moses, 
Aaron and Hur, on some point of rocks, hold- 
ing aloft their sympathetic interest in the 
struggle, Elijah might not have been under the 
juniper tree. 

Many a man fighting hard for a principle in 
politics or standing strongly for finer methods 
in commercial life goes down in defeat for the 
lack of just such openly and loyally expressed 
sympathy. The minister of Christ seeking out 
some man who is being worsted in the moral 
struggle often sees on that face a look of grati- 
tude and, alas, of surprise. The man will say 
with a tremor in his voice, ' ' I did not suppose 
anybody cared whether I went to the devil or 
not." The young fellow fighting with all his 
[186] 



The High Office of Sympathy 

might to keep his life clean in the face of 
temptation, struggling to maintain his honesty 
where he sees all kinds of successful stealing 
in operation, striving to keep his Christian 
faith in the presence of intellectual difficulties 
which seem to be tearing it to pieces, needs 
tremendously the presence and help of sym- 
pathetic friends. If there were three friends in 
sight, holding up their hands as a visible ex- 
pression of their interest, he would be nerved 
for the struggle and aided toward victory. 
And there are enough of us to go around — 
there are enough to furnish three such friends 
for every fight that is on. 

In the second place, the presence of those 
three men in the attitude of prayer became a 
pledge of divine help. When Joshua buckled 
on his armor and started for the field Moses 
said, " I will stand at the top of the hill with 
the rod of God in my hand." You recall the 
history of that famous rod. It was the shep- 
herd's crook, which he had carried when he 
kept his flocks in the land of Midian. He car- 
ried it with him in a loftier consecration when 
he went to bring the children of Israel out of 
the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. 
When he stretched it forth at the word of the 
Lord, it became the harbinger of those awful 
plagues, those terrible judgments which fell 
upon the oppressors of the people. He bore 
it with him through the wilderness, using it to 
draw water from the rocks for the thirsty 
Israelites. It had become invested with a 
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The Quest ofLife 

mystic significance in the eyes of that ancient 
people. It was clothed with an angnst and 
mysterious power. It was like a lightning-rod 
piercing the clouds of heaven and becoming 
the conductor of forces unseen as they were 
safely and usefully brought to earth. " I will 
go aloft with the rod of God in my hand." 
And all day long the figure of Moses with the 
rod of power, standing out against the Syrian 
sky, making his appeal to heaven, brought to 
the people fighting on the plain below a firm 
assurance of divine help. 

It indicates a service which any devout soul 
can render. It indicates a service which many 
can render who are not themselves in the thick 
of the fight. The three men on the rock that 
day were old men, each one of them past 
eighty. They were not able to fight with the 
AmaleMtes in the plain below. But the sun 
need never go down on the day of spiritual 
effectiveness. Dr. Osier said some time ago 
that a man past sixty was no longer of much 
account. Dr. Osier himself has passed his 
sixtieth birthday since then — perhaps he has 
revised his statement; we have not heard of 
his taking himself off the field of action. He 
has probably moved the limit up, as we all do 
when the years come and go. But there is no 
dead line in spiritual achievement, because the 
spiritual life is a life eternal. The figures of 
those three old men on the jutting rock, their 
white hair glistening in the sun of that clear 
sky, kindled the enthusiasm of the younger men 
[188] 



tii 



The High Office of Sympathy 

fighting the Amalekites in the plain below. 
Their attitude of prayer became a constant 
pledge of divine help to the men on the firing 
line. 

You may not be called into the heat and 
shock of the stern battle below, but you can 
help mightily by your faithful intercession. 
Many a man stands to his guns and fights it 
through by the aid of a little woman scarcely 
five feet high. Wendell Phillips was fighting 
the battle for the abolition of human slavery 
when that cause was most unpopular. He stood 
up and uttered his message, and it was a word 
with the bark on. The rabble answered back 
with stale eggs and brickbats and with curses, 
fouler and harder than either the eggs or the 
bricks. He was a man of culture ; a graduate 
of Harvard, an aristocrat in all his social affilia- 
tions. It was no easy task for him to face all 
this. His wife was an invalid lying at home in 
a darkened room for months and months, while 
the struggle went on. He would go to her room 
to kiss her good-night before he went out to 
address one of those troubled meetings, and she 
would look up into his face and say, " Now, 
Wendell, don't shilly-shally. ,, When the man 
went out with those words in his ears and with 
that woman's kiss on his cheek, he did not 
shilly-shally. He put it straight until the con- 
science of the nation was stung into action. 

In every house there should be at least one 
who can go aloft with the rod of God. Your 
husband may be compelled to go forth and fight 
[189] 



The Quest of Life 

the devil of greed and of graft, of trickery 
and of oppression while you remain sheltered. 
Yonr son may be called to face such enemies of 
sobriety, purity and honesty as you have never 
seen in all your life. Your daughter may feel 
the pull of a society where the current mood 
is one of showy ostentation and empty frivolity 
such as you never felt in your own simpler, 
saner girlhood. In all the shapes and forms of 
evil the Amalekites come out against the higher 
life to work upon it their wretched will. It is 
for you to say in those beautiful and effective 
ways which the true woman knows, " I will go 
aloft with the rod of God in my hand; and 
when I lift it up, my loved ones will prevail. ' ' 

When I see the situation where thousands 
of men are fighting it out six days in the week ; 
when I walk through certain streets in this city 
and think that untaught, untried boys will walk 
there too ; when I see young women with their 
wages so near the danger line that unless they 
are splendidly fortified with moral stamina 
they will be tempted, having sold their days to 
greed, to sell their nights to shame; when I 
meet Satan in all his forms carrying it off with 
a high hand, and an alluring grin, I am moved 
to utter a great indictment against those women 
who are content to go their way, thoughtless, 
prayerless, godless. In the name of Heaven, 
cannot they realize how sorely they are needed! 
There are wives and mothers who find time to 
play bridge for hours together every week, yet 
never from month's end to month's end do 
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The High Office of Sympathy 

they devote one complete hour to the high task 
of teaching their children the truths of religion 
or of lifting up the spiritual needs of their 
families in prayer to God. 

It need not be on any jutting point of rocks 
— it were better that the woman enter her 
closet and shut the door. There in secret let 
her pray to the Father, who seeth in secret; 
and because of the reality, the persistence, the 
loving fidelity of her prayer, the Father who 
seeth in secret will reward her openly in the 
spiritual victories of those she loves. If you 
never did it before in your life, do it to-day! 
Take the rod of God in your hand and make 
intercession on behalf of those who struggle 
with evil. They are liable to fail for lack of 
your help. In some strange way they will know 
that you are there and understand. They will 
be nerved by your sympathetic interest and by 
that fervent prayer which availeth much, to 
make that final effort which will bring them off 
conquerors. 

Great decisive battles are to be fought by 
this generation of boys and girls, now coming 
upon the field. Strongly fortified positions of 
evil are to be taken and the banner of Christ 
made to float there. Mighty fortresses of greed 
and shame are to be thrown down and the 
chariots of the Lord are to drive over them in 
triumph. The form of the battle will vary — 
now it will be personal, now social; here in- 
dustrial, there political. But whatever form it 
takes, the battle will not be fought entirely upon 
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The Quest of Life 

the ground. The work of those who stand 
yonder, stretching the rod of God heavenward 
will be clothed with splendid significance. The 
brute strength for the struggle may be formed 
from the dust, but the living soul of the move- 
ment for betterment will be breathed from on 
high. Joshua, the fighter, caught his vision 
of the divine in the figure of an armed man, 
standing outside the walls of Jericho. Moses 
saw the finger of God in the writing of those 
moral principles which were to rule the ages. 
Both types of men were needed for the ulti- 
mate victory — Joshua, taking the field with 
his sword in his hand; and Moses, lifting his 
rod of power heavenward that the cause of 
righteousness might prevail. 

You cannot rush out and secure that high 
quality of efficient sympathy or that power of 
successful intercession at a moment's notice 
when an emergency arises. Moses had been 
carrying that mystic rod which brought down 
blessings from above for many years. It 
reached back to the days of his youth. He had 
borne it as a young man, keeping the flocks of 
Jethro. He had borne it in the stress of those 
terrible days when the plagues of God fell 
upon the oppressors of the people along the 
banks of the Nile. He had stretched it out in 
the darkness of that awful night when the 
Israelites trembled on the shores of the Red 
Sea, hearing the approach of Pharaoh's char- 
iots and horsemen. He had used it in those 
days when he refreshed and instructed the 
[ 192 ] 



The High Office of Sympathy 

murmuring people in the desert. Now, in- 
vested as it was with the precious memories 
and associations which sprang from a long life 
of abiding trust, he held it aloft with the high 
confidence of a ripened saint. 

If your sympathy and your prayer are to 
turn the scale in some hard hour for those 
who struggle with the enemies of righteousness 
in the plain below, you, too, must prepare your- 
self against that day. You must live the life 
of abiding trust and faithful devotion through 
all these intervening years. The spiritual 
efficiency of the righteous soul able in the face 
of terrible odds to avail much is bought with 
a great price. 

Let me say this final word — in every man's 
soul this entire scene is reenacted every day 
in the year. In every heart Israel and Amalek, 
the higher and the lower, fight hand to hand 
for the mastery. In every heart there is an 
eminence where the best that is in you may 
go aloft and stretch out toward heaven its 
beseeching faith begotten of experience. While 
your personal will is struggling on the lower 
plane of physical inclination, of the mad desire 
for gain, and of the wish for selfish ease, there 
will come to you from that upper level of your 
nature supplies of strength, drawn from a 
source, unseen and inexhaustible ! The coming 
of these mighty allies will be like the tread of 
marching men. They will bring victory and 
you, too, will come off more than conqueror 
through him who loves us. *1 
[193] 



XII 

GREATER THINGS AHEAD 



"Thou shalt see greater things than these." — John 
i, 50. 

"And greater works than these shall he do, because 
1 go to my Father." — John xiv, 12. 

"Ye shall be perfect as your Heavenly Father is 
perfect." (R. V.) — Matthew v, 48. 



XII 

GEEATER THINGS AHEAD 

THE military command " Eyes Front! " 
has its counterpart in the work of the 
prophet. When we study the Hebrew prophets 
we find some of them looking back. They have 
their eyes on the past. They recognize the 
moral failure of Israel, and their hearts are 
heavy. When their message comes it is half 
sob and half censure. They are the prophets 
of Judgment. 

But there is another group of prophets where 
the men have their eyes to the front ; they are 
looking ahead. They are not unmindful of the 
moral tragedies wrought by wrongdoing, but 
they have caught a vision. They see another 
kingdom which has foundations, whose builder 
and maker is God. They see a greater king, 
a coming Messiah, afar off but faced toward 
them. They see light shining in a dark place 
and destined to illumine the whole earth. And 
when these men with eyes front speak, their 
utterance is a song of cheer — they are the 
prophets of hope. 

It is profoundly significant that when Christ, 
the greatest of the prophets, came, he took his 
[197] 



The Quest of Life 

stand definitely with the prophets of hope. He 
struck the keynote of his whole ministry in that 
opening address at Nazareth. " The spirit of 
the Lord is upon me because he hath anointed 
me to preach good tidings to the poor. He 
hath sent me to bind up the broken hearted; 
to preach deliverance to the captives and to 
set at liberty them that are bruised. ' ' 

In the t>ook of Isaiah, where he found this 
text for his first address, the rest of the verse 
reads — ' ' and to proclaim the day of vengeance 
of our God. ' ' He omitted that clause. It did 
not match his mood. He had not come to 
condemn the world, but to save the world. He 
saw the sin of the race. He knew what was in 
man and needed not that any should tell him. 
But he saw also the sovereign moral interest 
of the Father in every soul he had created. 
He felt the renewing power of divine grace, and 
in the face of everything he boldly took his 
stand with the prophets of hope. 

Now in the light of that attitude which was 
fundamental with our Lord, I wish to indicate 
three lines of expectation, which we are war- 
ranted in cherishing: 

In the first place, " Ye shall see greater 
things than these.' ' He said that early in his 
ministry. He said it to a man who had just 
enrolled himself as a disciple. This man, stand- 
ing in the presence of that august manifesta- 
tion of life, cried out, " Rabbi, thou art the 
King of Israel, thou art the Son of God! " 
Jesus answered, " Thou shalt see greater 
[198] 



Greater Things Ahead 

things than these. Thou shalt see heaven 
open." He was to see a whole upper realm of 
spiritual forces clear and plain, the angels of 
God coming and going on their ceaseless er- 
rands of spiritual recovery and moral enrich- 
ment. He was to see that spiritual order which 
towers above the common grind as the Matter- 
horn lifts itself above the valley of the Rhone. 
He was to see heaven open, operative, efficient. 

Are not these words being fulfilled in our 
ears? May it not be that we are even now on 
the outskirts of a great revival of religion? 
This revival may not come with observation 
and headlines. It may not come arrayed in 
the conventional robes of ecclesiastical proce- 
dure. It may not gather people into monster 
aggregation meetings, or set them to signing 
cards and putting up their hands. All this is 
secondary. 

We are witnessing a strong reaction against 
materialism as a philosophy of life. The best 
philosophy and the best science of our day are 
insisting that ultimate reality is not matter, 
but sentient mind or spirit. The wide currency 
and immense influence of Bergson and Euchen 
among scholars testify to this tendency in all 
serious thinking on fundamental problems. 

We are witnessing a widespread insistence 
upon the immediate utility of spiritual forces 
for increased health, for personal happiness, 
and for general well-being. It is an insistence 
which here and there becomes wild and reck- 
less. When a man has been stooping and sud- 
[199] 



The Quest of Life 

denly straightens up, he is apt to lean over 
backward for a moment or two before assum- 
ing Ms normal position. 

We have seen the amazing circulation of 
such books as those of Ralph Waldo Trine — ■ 
books scarcely worthy of serious consideration 
either from a philosophic or a literary point 
of view, but of immense significance as symp- 
toms bearing witness to the fact that hundreds 
of thousands of people in this land are athirst 
for the living God. They are not satisfied with 
the gospel of material comfort. They want to 
be " In tune with the Infinite. ,, 

We are witnessing the resolute demand for 
economic justice, for a more democratic spirit 
in the control of industry, for a more equitable 
distribution of the results of the toil of brain 
and of hand. The insistence upon a safeguard- 
ing of the moral values at stake in the whole 
work of production has never in the history 
of the world been so intelligent and determined. 

We are witnessing a tremendous impulse 
toward civic righteousness which has enlisted a 
large section of the best brain and heart of 
the land in seeking to make the powers that be 
" ordained of God." 

These are all tokens of spiritual quickening. 
I am aware that to some minds they might not 
seem like orthodox signs of religious awaken- 
ing. They are not sufficiently ecclesiastical. 
They do not pronounce the party shibboleth 
with just the right accent. But the purpose of 
God is not bound. It never has been bound by 
[200] 



Gr e aier Things Ahead 

usage and ceremony. It has been his way to 
constantly surprise his chosen people by send- 
ing some better thing than they had hoped. 
The Hebrews were sound in their prediction 
of a coming Messiah, but they were so inaccu- 
rate in many of the details that most of them did 
not know him when he came. What they expected 
never came — something better came. The early 
Christians looked for the speedy and visible 
return of Christ to earth. They were right in 
expecting that the risen Christ would make 
himself at once a more effective factor in 
human affairs, but they were mistaken as to the 
method. What they looked for did not come — 
something better came. In the wide diffusion 
of his spirit, in the more complete enthrone- 
ment of his ideals, in the steady exaltation of 
those principles for which he stood, he has come 
again, and is coming, and will continue to come 
until all shall know him, from the least to the 
greatest. 

The quickening of interest in spiritual forces 
in our day has come by methods of God's own 
choosing. " By men of strange lips and with 
another tongue will I speak unto my people, 
saith the Lord." The modern pulpit is a 
movable pulpit. Men are setting it up in all 
sorts of unconventional quarters. The office 
of the preacher has been widely extended to 
make room for all the men who have a message 
to deliver. From the pages of the serious maga- 
zine and the weekly paper, from the dinner 
table at great banquets, from many unexpected 
[201] 



The Quest of Life 

and unordained sources, the word of the Lord 
rings out. 

In the colleges and universities the number 
of aspiring young men who have some sort of 
public service in mind was never so great. In 
the world of popular estimate where applause 
is given or withheld according to the judgment 
of the many, it was never so plain that if a 
man would be great, he must serve. The great- 
est of all is not the man who can exercise lord- 
ship or attain affluence, but the man who can 
best serve the common interest. In all of these 
directions we find substantial signs of spiritual 
quickening. 

Ye shall see heaven open, operative, efficient. 
The divine spirit is functioning widely and 
powerfully in this intricate modern life. I 
should despair utterly if I did not believe with 
all my heart that the promise quoted is in pro- 
cess of fulfillment. It is our final dependence. 
The better order of life is not to be formed 
solely from the materials of this common earth. 
It cannot be ushered in by merely making the 
selfish efforts of men more skillful and more 
resolute. It is to descend out of heaven from 
God. It is to come bringing with it the atmos- 
phere of a higher world. And it is because 
Christian men believe in God, and in the real- 
ization of the will of God, and in the conse- 
quent coming of the kingdom of God, that they 
are able to stand in the very thick of this 
modern struggle and speak with the accent of 
spiritual authority. They are not alone — the 
[202] 



Greater Things Ahead 

Father is with them. It is by the more effective 
utilization of those unseen forces symbolized 
by the " open heaven " that the renewal of 
personal character and the regeneration of 
organized society are to be achieved. 

In the second place, " Greater works than 
these shall ye do, because I go to the Father/ ' 
This is strong meat ! It has been a stumbling- 
block to many. " Greater works than these " 
— none of the disciples ever walked across the 
Sea of Galilee on the water; none of the dis- 
ciples ever changed water into wine. But 
Jesus did not say greater wonders, he said 
"greater works " — greater in their scope 
and variety, greater in their continuity and 
wide utility. By the power of his grace and 
under the guidance of his spirit we are actually 
doing the greater works. 

To establish in the heart of Christendom a 
sense of obligation toward the blind, the sick, 
and all the defective of earth, resulting in such 
wise, humane and generous treatment of their 
ills as was never dreamed of in the time of 
Christ, is a greater work than to open the eyes 
of one blind man at the Pool of Siloam. To 
awaken and develop the sentiment of humanity 
which leads to the organization and main- 
tenance of hospitals for the poor in all our 
cities, to the sending out of District Nurses 
into all the streets and alleys whither he him- 
self would come, and to the founding of Medi- 
cal Missions in all the lands of earth, is a 
greater work than to lift one lame man into 
[203] 



The Quest of Life 

sound health at the gate of the temple called 
Beautiful. And to put upon the conscience of 
Christendom a new sense of responsibility for 
all these countless helpless lives bound with 
severe toil, and make the resolute demand that 
they shall have a more equitable share of the 
comforts they help to create, is a greater work 
than to feed five thousand hungry men once 
at the Sea of Galilee. 

When Jacob Eiis, a Christian man, aroused 
other Christian men and women to take hold 
of the lower East Side of New York, and by 
replacing unsanitary tenements with decent 
dwellings and parks and playgrounds changed 
the whole face of the situation for thousands 
of struggling people, it was not a greater won- 
der, but it was a greater work than it would 
have been for Jacob Eiis to have walked across 
the Hudson Eiver on the water. When John 
G. Paton went to the New Hebrides and changed 
the lives of those filthy cannibals into lives of 
Christian men, clothed, educated, and aspiring, 
by preaching and living the Christian Gospel, 
it was not so great a wonder as it would have 
been for him to have changed a bucket of water 
into a bucket of wine, but it was a greater 
work. ' ' Greater works than these shall ye do ' ' 
— in the scope and variety, in the continuity 
and wide utility of Christian achievement we 
are witnessing the fulfillment of this majestic 
promise. 

And the end is not yet — we have just begun ! 
We are just scratching the surface where the 
[204] 



Greater Things Ahead 

full possibilities of these spiritual forces lie 
hidden. We are just starting on that type of 
Christian service which says, boldly, " The 
field is the world/ ' The field is the world ex- 
tensively, for it includes within the scope of 
our moral interest Japan and China, India 
and Africa. The field is the world intensively, 
for it includes the mill and the mine, the fac- 
tory and the farm. The redemption and trans- 
figuration of this big, blooming, buzzing con- 
fusion, called " the world," is the huge task to 
which religion is set. 

The great field where men buy and sell, 
where they teach and learn, where they marry 
and rear families, where they organize states 
and enact laws, where they also pray and 
adore — this whole system of activity called 
" the world " is the field where the seed of 
religion is to be put down under the surface 
and made to grow. It is the only field large 
enough to yield that harvest which shall fill 
the garners of the Lord and satisfy the travail 
of his soul. The moral recovery and the spirit- 
ual transformation of that great, wide area of 
human interest is the greater work to which 
the men of our generation are called. 

Our hope that this greater work can be ac- 
complished rests down upon two fundamental 
facts; we believe in the human capacity for 
response to an ideal. In the Middle Ages there 
was poured out a stream of treasure and 
enthusiasm, of life and of love, in the Crusades 
which is the amazement of history. It was only 
[205] 



The Quest of Life 

a poor, disappointing ideal which thus stirred 
the heart of Europe when the appeals of Peter 
the Hermit and Bernard of Clairvaux rang out 
— it was only the re-taking of the tomb where 
once the dead body of Christ was laid for an 
hour, but it was an ideal. And to that imperfect 
ideal the undying capacity of the human heart 
for moral heroism made its magnificent 
response. 

It is a vaster, higher and holier ideal which 
makes its appeal to our generation. We are 
bent upon the recovery of these great sections 
of modern life where the Saracens of greed, of 
lust, and of fraud are encamped. These ene- 
mies of our Lord scorn the Christian ideal. 
They bid defiance to the will of the Most 
High, and we are sent to recover from the 
hand of the enemy these living souls in whom 
the spirit of the risen Christ seeks to dwell 
forevermore. 

This vaster ideal is slowly taking shape in 
that social interest and social sympathy which 
have become the dominant notes in the moral 
life of this generation. No Peter the Hermit 
or Bernard of Clairvaux has yet appeared to 
unlock that store of enthusiasm requisite for 
this harder task, but when he comes the con- 
science of this nation will make its mighty 
response. There will come forth a marching 
host set upon the reign of righteousness, peace 
and good-will, causing the kingdom of God to 
advance by leaps and bounds. This troubled 
situation where we find ourselves is not final 
[206] 



Greater Things Ahead 

— greater and better work than this shall 
we do. 

Our confidence rests, also, upon the invincible 
will of God. " Fear not, it is your Father's 
good pleasure to give you the kingdom! " He 
finds his highest joy in aiding men toward that 
great achievement. We may hasten or we may 
hinder the accomplishment of his will by fidel- 
ity or infidelity, but the kingdom which Christ 
proclaimed is sure to come. "It is the will 
of God! " the old Crusaders shouted as they 
faced toward the Holy Sepulchre and lined up 
against the Saracens. " It is the will of God ! ' ' 
these knights of the Cross are crying as they 
set forth to recover the social life from the 
grip of evil and to transform it until it shall 
shine by the indwelling spirit of the living God. 
We shall see a nation of free men organized in 
righteousness and acting in the spirit of in- 
telligent good-will for the coming of that per- 
fect kingdom here on earth. 

And once more, " Ye shall be perfect as 
your Father in heaven is perfect." I quote 
this statment as it stands in the Revised Ver- 
sion; it is a promise rather than a command. 
It was spoken originally on a hillside in Galilee 
to a company of faulty men. One man in the 
group was destined to lie, denying his Lord 
with an oath ; another would openly doubt him 
in the face of all his rich experience of Christ 's 
fidelity; most of them would show themselves 
cowards and quitters when the day of stress 
came. They were all imperfect, yet there 
[207] 



The Quest of Life 

stands the promise in its full strength — ' ' Ye 
shall be perfect as your Father in heaven is 
perfect. ' ' 

In the light of what Jesus saw of the un- 
realized capacity for spiritual advance in every 
soul and in the light of the sovereign moral 
interest of the Father in every child created 
to bear his image, he could say nothing less. 
It holds before us an endless task, and it car- 
ries with it an assurance of our own immortal- 
ity. If we are to achieve so much, the oppor- 
tunity must be commensurate with the task. If 
I am asked to read all the books in the British 
Museum, I realize that it cannot be accom- 
plished in threescore years and ten — I know 
that the very command carries with it the 
pledge of an adequate opportunity. When I 
hear this promise from the lips of moral au- 
thority, " Ye shall be perfect," and feel the 
response it awakens in the yearnings and as- 
pirations of my own soul, I know that the 
opportunity for spiritual advance will likewise 
be adequate. 

We find an earnest of ultimate success in the 
history of the race. We judge these human 
lives as we judge lines in geometry, not so much 
by their present position as by the direction 
they take. If two lines are exactly parallel, 
no matter how closely they may lie, you may 
project them indefinitely, yet they will never 
meet. But if the two lines converge ever so 
little, though they lie as far apart as the North 
Pole and the South Pole, you may project them 
[208] 



Greater Things Ahead 

with full assurance that somewhere they will 
meet. The direction they take is the determin- 
ing fact. 

In human life the solid fact of moral prog- 
ress is unmistakable. The direction humanity 
has taken in its age-long movements furnishes 
us a splendid confirmation of these prophetic 
words which fell from the lips of Christ. Up 
out of a brutish ancestry in prehistoric times, 
up out of moral conditions coarse and terrible 
since credible history took up the record, there 
has come this fairer, sweeter, nobler life we 
know to-day. 

And the direction is still upward and on- 
ward. Where ships are a thousand miles at 
sea under full sail, with all the breezes of 
heaven blowing on them we know that they will 
go farther. Jesus speaks here to the moral 
aspiration of the race, and his word of promise 
corroborates the best we know and feel. The 
destiny of man is a destiny of moral progress 
with this goal in view — l ' Ye shall be perfect 
even as your Father in heaven is perfect." 

What a magnificent expectation to march at 
the head of the advancing host! Ye shall see, 
ye shall do, ye shall be ! Because history is a 
progressive unveiling of the divine face and 
purpose, we shall see greater things than men 
have yet seen. Because men of faith, working 
out their own salvation, are conscious that God 
is working within them to perform his good 
pleasure, we shall do greater and ever greater 
work. And because the purpose of the ages 
[209] 



The Quest of Life 

stands announced at the threshold of Scrip- 
ture, " Let us make man in our image,' ' we 
shall at last be perfect even as our Father in 
heaven is perfect. This is the great expecta- 
tion moving ahead like a pillar of fire and guid- 
ing the race through dreary sands and bitter 
waters into the land of promise. 



[210] 



XIII 

THE RELIGIOUS LIFE UNDER 
CHANGED CONDITIONS 



"How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange 
land?" — Psalm cxxxvn, 4. 



XIII 

THE RELIGIOUS LIFE UNDER 
CHANGED CONDITIONS 

HOW often you hear the children of God 
singing! When Moses led the Israelites 
out of Egypt and across the Red Sea they stood 
on the shore singing. It was a brave, glad 
song — ' ' The Lord hath triumphed gloriously ; 
the horse and his rider hath he cast into the 
sea." When the ancient Hebrews brought up 
the ark of the covenant from its narrow tent 
into the temple Solomon had built, they were 
singing! " Lift up your heads, ye gates; 
be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors; and the 
King of glory shall come in." 

When Jesus and his disciples celebrated the 
last supper in the upper room they sang a 
hymn before they went out into the Garden of 
Gethsemane. It was the old Paschal hymn 
which the Jews have been singing for thirty 
centuries. When Paul and Silas were unjustly 
imprisoned in that Philippian jail the other 
prisoners heard them singing at midnight. It 
was just before the earthquake which shattered 
the walls of the prison and all hearts were re- 
assured by that song of hope sounding through 
[213] 



The Quest of Life 

the corridors. And when at last the redeemed 
host stands before the great white throne the 
people are singing. They sing " the song of 
Moses and the Lamb, ' ' the song of moral order 
and redemptive love. You can scarcely get 
beyond the sound of music anywhere in the 
pages of God's holy word. 

It is altogether fitting that it should be so. 
Music can be made the noblest expression of 
Christian aspiration. " When we find religion 
standing on its feet and working with its hands, 
it is morality. When we find religion thinking 
hard upon fundamentals and striving to ground 
its hope in moral reason, it is theology. But 
when we pierce to the heart of it and find it 
in the mood of worship and aspiration, it is 
always a song." Those sentiments of faith and 
hope and love which issue from the lips of be- 
lieving men and women in hymns of praise 
have wonderful power. 

But here in the text was a group of religious 
people who refused to sing. They were Jews, 
but they had been carried away captive into 
the haughty, pagan city of Babylon. Away 
yonder to the west, across hundreds of miles 
of mountain and plain, was the soil they loved. 
Palestine was the place of their desire. The 
wealth and gayety of this foreign capital did 
not appeal to them for one moment. They 
were homesick, wretched and bitter. And 
when those who had taken them captive asked 
them to sing one of the songs of Zion for the 
entertainment of Babylon, as a company of 
[214] 



Changed Conditions 

Northern people might ask a group of negroes 
to sing some old plantation melody, the Jews 
resented it. They answered, mournfully per- 
haps, but indignantly, we know, for the last 
words of this psalm are harsh, " How can we! 
How can we sing the Lord's song in a strange 
land! " 

In the face of all their shattered hopes they 
did not feel like singing. They might possibly 
have repeated the ten commandments. They 
might have recited some creed statement in- 
dicating their belief in one true and living God, 
who had sustained them in those hard days. 
They might have opened their hearts to make 
some costly sacrifice, as an act of worship. 
Any one of these things they might have done. 
But to set the choicest sentiments they had to 
music and cause them to flow forth in gracious 
melody seemed to them impossible. They 
hung their harps on the willows and sat down 
in gloomy silence. They could not sing the 
Lord's song under those changed conditions, 
and the song was left unsung. 

What a picture of these lives of ours as we 
know them! There are men and women who, 
by the shores of the Sea of Galilee or on the 
slopes of some lovely Mount Hermon, sang the 
Lord's song with hearts full of joy. But the 
hour came when they found themselves in a 
strange land. The conditions were all changed 
and all foreign to their wish. The walls which 
shut them in were as hateful in their eyes as 
were the walls of Babylon to those captive 
[215] 



The Quest of Life 

Jews. And then the words of the old song 
of hope and cheer wonld not come. ' * How can 
we sing the song of faith and hope and love," 
they said, " nnder these changed conditions 
where onr lot is now cast! " They went on 
repeating the ten commandments and keeping 
them. They still recited some sort of confes- 
sion of faith, broken, it might be, in places. 
They still opened their hands to do good, even 
where it involved sacrifice. But the joy and 
zest, the relish and enthusiasm they once felt 
in Christian life and service were gone. They 
had not learned to sing the Lord's song under 
these changed conditions. 

The policy of silence involved a serious loss 
to those ancient Israelites. When they allowed 
the Lord's song to die from their lips they 
lost some portion of their love for the Lord 
himself out of their hearts. They lived along 
in that strange land until in great measure 
they forgot the Lord's land. The right hand 
did not forget its cunning, but the heart forgot 
its attachment to Jerusalem. "When their re- 
lease came some years later and they had a 
chance to return to Palestine, only one in seven 
of them cared to go. The rest of them had 
become Babylonians, doing in Babylon as the 
Babylonians did. In large measure it was due 
to the fact that they had neglected to sing the 
Lord's song in that strange land. 

This involved a loss to the Babylonians also, 
whose hearts might have been touched by music 
of a higher order. They might have heard a 
[216] 



Changed Conditions 

message from the Eternal in those songs of 
Zion. Imagine the effect of hearing a company 
of exiled Hebrews there in the valley of the 
Euphrates singing, " I will lift up mine eyes 
unto the hills from whence cometh my help. 
My help cometh from the Lord." Imagine the 
effect of hearing those Hebrews, hundreds of 
miles from their native land, singing, " I was 
glad when they said unto me, Let us go into 
the house of the Lord. Our feet shall stand 
within thy gates, Jerusalem. ' ' The Hebrews 
would better have sung the Lord's song in that 
strange land, for their own sakes and for the 
sake of those who would have heard them. 

What are some of the causes which silence 
the lips of God's people in our day? It may 
be a change in outward condition. You can 
think of people who were religious when they 
were prosperous. They found satisfaction in 
the worship and in the work of the kingdom. 
They were happy in their gifts to benevolence 
and in the exercise of the grace of Christian 
hospitality. But reverses came. They lost 
their money and now they are sore. They feel 
sometimes that their old friends are avoiding 
them, simply because they themselves have 
drawn back into their shells. They may think 
that God has forgotten them because they are 
not able to do as much for his cause financially 
as they once did. They hang their harps on 
the willows and refuse to sing. They are not 
bad people, but they no longer count in active 
Christian service. 

[217] 



The Quest of Life 

You can think, also, of those who travel this 
same road in exactly the opposite direction. 
In the old, simple conditions, when they were 
in modest circumstances, they were Christians, 
earnest, active, useful. But wealth came and 
a great house, with its luxury and display. 
Steam yachts and automobiles, social dissipa- 
tion and incessant travel all helped to change 
the entire mood of their lives. Spiritual in- 
difference crept in and an utter neglect of the 
old ways. The saying of grace disappeared 
from the table, and the feeling of grace faded 
out of the heart. There was no room for the 
Church in this crowd of pushing interests. The 
Lord's song went unsung, month after month, 
until the children of those men and women who 
once were earnest Christians scarcely knew 
how that song sounded. These friends did not 
learn " how to abound,' ' by serving God with 
their abundance. 

You find those who stopped singing because 
sorrow came in the death of one they loved. 
They are plunged in gloom and they propose to 
remain there. It accomplishes nothing to as- 
sure them that this is the last thing that dear 
one, standing in the light where there is no 
darkness at all, would have them do. " It 
is a strange land," they say, " this land 
of grief," and no Lord's song will rise from 
their lips. 

You find those who cease to sing because of 
the new joys they have experienced. The bride 
and groom in the sweet pleasure of their love 
[218] 



Changed Conditions 

and of the home they have established; the 
young father and mother in the joyous posses- 
sion of that child born to them in the provi- 
dence of God; the restored invalid, lifted from 
his sick-bed into such physical vigor as he 
feared might never be his again, and now re- 
joicing in the full enjoyment of the glad out- 
doors — all these, and scores of other happy 
experiences, leading men and women into the 
new and bewildering delights of some strange 
land, serve to obscure the old interests of wor- 
ship and service, until they fail through sad 
neglect. 

What a loss, and what an unnecessary loss! 
Every added experience, sweet or bitter, should 
increase one's power to sing God's praise and 
to make the life tell for the coming of his king- 
dom. Many people never sing with real effec- 
tiveness until they pass through some period 
where they feel as if they might never be able 
to sing again. When Jenny Lind began to 
give her concerts in Europe a music master 
listened and nodded his head approvingly. 
"It is glorious," he said, " glorious. But if 
she could only suffer for a year she would sing 
like an angel." A little later she suffered for 
more than a year. She carried with her a 
broken heart, and when she opened her lips 
again it was like the song the angels sang that 
night in the skies above Bethlehem. Right here 
under the stress of that heavy burden you 
carry; right here beneath the shadow of that 
sorrow which hides the sun and all the stars; 
[219] 



The Quest of Life 

right here with that feeling of depression which 
comes from the sense of defeat, sing the Lord's 
song. Because yon have suffered, the music 
your life utters will carry new and deeper 
notes. 

We are told sometimes that modern congre- 
gations cannot be made to sing ; that it is con- 
trary to the mood and temper in which people 
live; that the present attitude toward religion 
is intellectual and practical rather than mysti- 
cal and devotional; and that all this is fatal 
to music. 

It is not so in all congregations. It would 
be a sad loss if that were true of any congrega- 
tion. We cannot live by bread alone, or even 
by bread and books. We want the clear light 
of knowledge and the plain utility of humane 
service, but we want also that warmth of senti- 
ment and that enthusiasm in devotion which 
find their fullest expression in Christian song. 

The late Frederic Harrison had a keen dis- 
like for everything emotional or mystical in 
religion. He founded a School of Positive 
Philosophy, and Sunday services were held in 
London, where they had an abundance of in- 
tellectual daylight and nothing else. He was 
learned, sincere, and a man of unusual force, 
but the movement failed utterly. " Where did 
you attend church this morning? " one gentle- 
man asked another at a hotel in London one 
Sunday. " I was at Frederic Harrison's 
Temple of Light." " And what did you find 
there? " " I found three persons and no 
[220] 



Changed Conditions 

God." Where men lose the sense of devotional 
feeling which prompts the song of praise they 
lose also their power of spiritual appeal. 

The college songs have value in the life of 
the university. They often embody a highly 
useful quality of college spirit. When the men 
in Cambridge sing " Fair Harvard," and the 
men at Yale sing " Bright College Years "; 
when the men at the University of California 
sing " The Golden Bear," and the men at 
Stanford sing " Hail, Stanford, Hail," the 
deeper note of loyalty to the institution and to 
all its splendid traditions is thereby struck. 

When our brave men in blue stood shoulder to 
shoulder in some dark hour of the Civil War 
singing, " Mine eyes have seen the glory of the 
coming of the Lord," that Battle Hymn of the 
Republic, they were nerved for the conflict 
which lay ahead. When Cromwell's Ironsides 
went forth on Marston Moor chanting, " Let 
God arise, let his enemies be scattered," it was 
an earnest of spiritual victory. When those 
brave reformers under Martin Luther, pitting 
their strength against spiritual despotism, 
stood up and sang, ' ' Ein f este Burg ist unser 
Gott," the act of praise became a prophecy 
of the triumph they were destined to win. The 
spirit of loyalty is expressed and developed in 
such a song of aspiration. When the day is 
long and the strife hard, sing the Lord's song 
all the more. Sing the song of hope in that 
strange land where you find yourself, and the 
land may become no longer strange. 
[221] 



The Quest of Life 

In the second place, the lips may be silenced 
by a change of belief. Many people feel that 
these are strange times npon which we have 
fallen. Where are the old standards to which 
men formerly submitted their questions as to 
a court of final appeal 1 When all Christians 
believed in the infallibility of the Church they 
had nothing to do but to accept what it said. 
It was easier then to sing the song of faith. 
When all Christians believed that the Bible was 
the infallible expression of the mind of God, 
every syllable of it, with no need for discrimi- 
nation or appraisal in judging its various 
parts, the song of high confidence rose without 
a tremor. When some finished system of 
theology, strongly made, part dovetailing into 
part with absolute precision, was accepted 
without question, the mind and heart were left 
free to sing. But in these days, when the study 
of history and of literature, of science and of 
philosophy, has changed all this ; in these days 
when every man is called upon to exercise his 
own godly judgment regarding these conflicting 
claims, and to do it at his own risk, some of 
the glad, confident songs of praise are hushed. 1 

Not only the changed attitude in theology 
but the changing attitude in certain quarters 
touching man's moral freedom has silenced the 
song. " Heredity and environment have us 
bound hand and foot," men are saying. We 
act not as we choose but as we must. We are 
what we are by the operation of forces which 
we cannot control. Whatever is, had to be; 
[222] 



Changed Conditions 

and whatever will be will be, whether we like 
it or not. 

Gloomy, pessimistic determinism like this is 
not confined to a few sad-eyed philosophers 
shut up in a closet. It is being preached auda- 
ciously at the street corners and proclaimed 
from the housetops. Men know by heart " the 
parable of the soil," which is the parable of 
environment. They know that hard or stony 
or weedy soil may register its verdict against 
a harvest. They have not learned so well " the 
parable of the seed, ' ' where the inner life prin- 
ciple, be it wheat or tare, becomes the deter- 
mining factor in the harvest. Here were wheat 
and tares sown in the same soil with varying 
results determined from within. But many are 
hanging out the flag of distress. " We are not 
free to choose. We are the tools of fate. We 
are caught and held within the grip of forces 
titanic, which may carry us to the bottom in 
spite of everything. ' ' This is not the mood for 
music — no song issues out of that temper. 

The song of Christian enthusiasm has been 
hushed in some hearts by the changed ideals 
in the world of industry. There are men who 
claim that it is impossible to reconcile Chris- 
tian ethics with the economic conditions under 
which so many of our fellows are compelled to 
live. They refuse, therefore, to sing on Sunday 
what they have no intention of practicing on 
Monday. 

We are undoubtedly feeling the influence of 
more searching principles of right and wrong 
[223] 



The Quest of Life 

action in corporate life. We live in the pres- 
ence of finer and more exacting ideals touch- 
ing the treatment of our fellows in the world 
of business. There was a time when a man 
might rapidly accumulate a fortune by methods 
legal, perhaps, but showing scant regard for the 
human values at stake and then turn around 
and play the role of " Lord Bountiful " in his 
showy philanthropies and be held up to the 
gaze of admiring youth for their applause. 
That day has gone. The picture does not 
awaken a thrill in the heart of modern society. 
Thoughtful men are insisting in downright 
fashion that fortunes must be won as well as 
given away by methods which harmonize with 
the higher ideals. The steps of a good man 
must be ordered by the Lord, not only in his 
private virtues and in the treatment of his 
family, but in the courses of action he pursues 
in commercial and in civic life. Because that 
task is hard, there are men who refuse to sing. 
They are unwilling to utter in any form the 
Christian ideal, since they propose to catch the 
nearest way to gain their ends. And many a 
Christian man is carrying a burden on his 
heart when he sees in business that which he 
feels powerless to alter — and that takes the 
joy out of his song. 

What shall we say? The task of keeping the 
faith, of holding fast to Christian principle, and 
of singing the song of Christian aspiration, is 
in these days undoubtedly another and a harder 
task. To be as good as our grandfathers were 
[ 224 ] 



Changed Conditions 

we shall have to be a great deal better in the 
application of Christian principles to everyday 
life. The changed attitude in the matter of 
religious belief, the changed conception of 
human nature resulting from the study of 
psychology and from a more scientific inquiry 
into the forces of heredity and environment, 
together with the emergence of more exacting 
ideals in the economic world, must, of neces- 
sity, modify our song. 

But these things need not, they must not, 
silence it. The finer discrimination in the 
matter of belief, the fuller sense of all that is 
involved in that mystery we call personality, 
and the moral heroism required to make the 
six days of labor as holy as the seventh day of 
rest and worship, will only serve to bring out 
the finer accents in that music of the higher 
life. The very difficulty and vastness of our 
present undertaking will make the attack of 
the singers more sharply defined. The intri- 
cacy and the rich content of these problems 
which we face will make the harmony of the 
resultant music more complete and satisfying. 
The great volume of moral aspiration will rise 
from the hearts of resolute Christian men bent 
upon the coming of the kingdom of God in all 
these interests like the sound of many waters. 
The Lord's song is a song which can be sung, 
and must be sung, under any conditions where 
the children of God are compelled to live. 

The song of aspiration is silenced in certain 
hearts by some cherished bit of evil. We read 
[225] 



The Quest of Life 

in the Bible of a certain strong man who be- 
came a leader in Israel. He langhed at all 
the combinations of the enemies of his coun- 
try's peace. He seized the lion which roared 
against him and rent it as if it had been a 
harmless kid. He carried off the gates of the 
heathen city of Gaza as if they had been the 
playthings of a child. He stands catalogued 
in the book of Hebrews with the heroes of the 
faith, who subdued kingdoms and wrought 
righteousness, waxed valiant in fight and turned 
back the armies of aliens. 

But there came a time when he allowed his 
moral nature to sleep for a night in the lap of 
evil. And when he arose from that debauch 
he was shorn of his strength. He did not know 
how weak he was — " he wist not that the 
Lord had departed from him." He went out 
and shook himself as at other times, but when 
the Philistines came upon him he was power- 
less. They took him and bound him; they put 
out his eyes and compelled him to grind in the 
prison house as a common slave. He had done 
wrong and the Lord had departed from him. 
He could neither sing the Lord's song nor fight 
the Lord's battles nor do the Lord's work. 

All these things were written for our in- 
struction, as in a parable. No man's moral 
power is safe from the attacks of the Philis- 
tines unless it is guarded by sincerity of heart 
and by the strong defense of God 's favor. The 
willful cherishing of an evil purpose, the easy 
compromise with some unrighteous method, the 
[226] 



Changed Conditions 

bowing down of some section of the life to 
Satan in return for some small kingdom of 
this world will render any man as weak as a 
child. Eternal vigilance is the price of spirit- 
ual vigor. Truth in the inward parts is what 
each man must pay for force of character. It 
cannot be had on any other terms. If the 
Lord's song is to rise triumphantly from the 
lips it must spring from a heart where he 
reigns supreme. 

We have seen the changed conditions which 
in many lives lower the pitch and reduce the 
volume of moral aspiration. But in a rightly 
ordered life these things are powerless to 
silence the song. The great moral imperatives 
are in no wise impaired by these altered con- 
ditions. Are reverence, trust and obedience 
toward the highest we know any the less obli- 
gatory? Is the demand for intelligent and 
persistent good-will toward our fellow-beings 
any the less peremptory? Is the moral tonic 
to be gained through prayer, through the 
thoughtful reading of Scripture, and from the 
cherished hope of life immortal any the less 
real? Are the joys of unselfish service and 
the satisfying fellowship of men of like aspira- 
tions with us any the less rewarding? All these 
precious values rest upon foundations which 
stand sure. The deep diapason in the Lord's 
song sounds forth to-day as rich and strong 
as it did when the morning stars sang to- 
gether and the sons of God shouted for joy. 

In whatever state you find yourself, in a land 
[227] 



The Quest of Life 

familiar or in a land that is strange, sing your 
song of faith and hope and love! It will help 
you to live the life ; others will hear your song 
and they will be helped. Order your life 
aright and you can sing the Lord's song any- 
where and everywhere with a confidence 
sublime. 

And as you go forth into the future, not 
knowing what a day may bring forth; as you 
move out upon an unknown continent of expe- 
rience, take your harp with you and sing your 
song of aspiration and high resolve. In the 
face of whatever may come show yourself 
blithe, radiant, undaunted, and by his almighty 
aid you will transform that strange land into 
a land of promise. 

" So long thy power hath blest me, sure it still 
Will lead me on, 
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till 

The night is gone, 
And with the morn those angel faces smile 
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile." 

Sing it! Sing it with all your heart, and 
though for years you may wander and wonder, 
you will at last find yourself singing in some 
mansion of our Father's house. 



[228] 



XIV 
THE USES OF DISAPPOINTMENT 



"In the year that King TJzziah died I saw also the 
Lord." — Isaiah vi, 1. 



XIV 
THE USES OF DISAPPOINTMENT 

IT had been a hard year for this young man. 
He was a warm-hearted hero worshiper; 
he was an ardent patriot ; he honored the king. 
And now the king was dead! 

The king had been a wise and good ruler 
who served his country well. He fortified 
Jerusalem, his capital city, by building towers 
at the valley gate and at the turning of the 
wall. He showed an effective interest in the 
physical well-being of his subjects — " he 
loved husbandry/ ' He dug wells in the desert. 
He had much cattle in the low countries and 
on the plains. He caused vineyards to be 
planted on the slopes of Carmel. His reign 
was beneficent and he was greatly beloved. 

But in some mysterious way this wise and 
good king contracted leprosy. He suffered 
through all the closing years of his reign from 
the slow, terrible inroads of that dread disease. 
Eoyal personage though he was, he was com- 
pelled by the stern requirements of Jewish law 
to live outside the city. He could not remain 
in his own capital. He had to reign by deputy. 
At last he died a victim of that terrible disease. 
[231] 



The Quest of Life 

It was a sad shock and a grievous disappoint- 
ment to all the people. But Isaiah, the coming 
prophet of his time, records a notable expe- 
rience which came with that disappointment — 
i ' In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the 
Lord." 

In the light of that statement let me in- 
dicate some of the possible uses of disappoint- 
ment. The young man's hero worship passed 
over into a profounder faith. He had been 
thinking of Israel's welfare as bound up with 
the life and service of that good ruler. Now 
the king was dead and he must plan without 
Uzziah. And under the compulsion of that 
strange experience he saw the Lord high and 
lifted up, sitting upon his throne. 

His moral outlook began to sweep a broader 
horizon. His trust in that which is seen and 
temporal rose into a clearer recognition of the 
immediate worth of that which is unseen and 
eternal. The very failure of those pleasant 
sources of expectation in his valley, of delight 
compelled him to lift up his eyes afresh unto 
the hills, from whence cometh help. And look- 
ing up, he saw the Lord. 

No one life, even though that life be kingly, 
is more than a single item, a solitary detail, in 
the working out of a plan destined in its final 
consummation to transcend our highest hopes. 
The man on whom so much depends may be 
removed, and then we must plan without him. 
But " after the death of Moses the Lord spake 
to Joshua. ' ' After the death of David, the best 
[232] 



The Uses of Disappointment 

king Israel ever had, the Lord brought the 
prophet Isaiah to the front. In the year that 
some religious leader, like Jonathan Edwards 
or Charles G. Finney or Dwight L. Moody, dies, 
the Lord develops fresh capacity in a score of 
other men impelled by the necessities of the 
changed situation to effort more resolute. The 
king is dead, long live the King of kings! He 
is alive and at work within this unfolding his- 
tory for the accomplishment of his good pleas- 
ure. How the hearts of men would be em- 
boldened did they rise more readily from the 
mood of hero worship into the vision of 
God! 

" I come to you not with the enticing words 
of man's wisdom nor with excellency of 
speech M Paul said to the Corinthian Church, 
" but in demonstration of the spirit, that your 
faith may stand not in the wisdom of men but 
in the power of God." He put no slight on 
intellectual gifts. He was a well-trained man, 
brought up at the feet of Gamaliel. He was 
a man of no mean ability — he wrote well-nigh 
a third of the New Testament with his own 
hand. He wrote the best hymn on love to be 
found in print. He made the strongest moral 
appeal on behalf of faith in immortality ever 
penned. He was a thoughtful, effective 
preacher of great truths. But he would have 
the faith of those men stand ever in the power 
of the divine spirit. In the year when they 
saw the human props to their belief fall away, 
he would have them see the Lord. Not in hero 
[233] 



The Quest of Life 

worship, but in the vision of God are we to 
ground our hope. 

In the second place, the young man saw that 
the divine providence includes and utilizes the 
dark days as well as the bright. We get into 
ruts. We find them comfortable, satisfying 
ruts. We run smoothly, like the farm wagon 
on a country road, because we are in that well- 
worn track. Then there comes a shift of cir- 
cumstances which throws us out into a changed 
situation where we are compelled to wear down 
another track for the progress of our lives. 

Here is a man who had gained a compe- 
tence, but he loses it and finds himself strug- 
gling! Here is one who loses his health — he 
passes over in a year from the sweet uncon- 
sciousness of those days when he scarcely 
knew that he had any organs to the point where 
he feels that he is nothing but organs, all of 
them conspiring against his peace! Here is a 
craftsman thrown out of employment by some 
new invention which makes his trade unneces- 
sary ; now at fifty he finds himself no longer in 
demand! Here is a home where death has 
taken away the choicest member of the family ! 
In every case the materials for happiness which 
remain seem broken and fragmentary. The 
regal fact is gone, and the reign of those 
beneficent forces which made life glad is at an 
end. 

How differently men take such disappoint- 
ments ! Some look down in settled melancholy 
until they are prompted to end it all in suicide. 
[234] 



The Uses of Disappointment 

Others are brave — they look down, but in the 
spirit of the soldier. They regard themselves 
as pickets sent out upon their beats in that 
lonely country. They are unhappy as they 
pace to and fro in the dark and cold, but in 
somber resignation they stand guard until re- 
lieved by an order from headquarters. We 
cannot judge them harshly — it is one thing to 
rejoice in the goodness of God when everything 
is going one 's way ; it is another matter to hold 
that attitude when everything seems adverse. 

But in that hard hour when the king died 
Isaiah looked up and saw the Lord. God was 
not dead. And whatever God allows in his own 
world cannot be so terrible but that his chil- 
dren may patiently build it into something 
which will express his deeper purpose and 
satisfy their hearts. That was what Isaiah 
saw in the hour of his disappointment. The 
king was dead, but this ardent patriot saw the 
nation moving ahead under other guidance, 
finding through its sense of loss some new form 
of expression for its deeper life. He saw that 
all things, the dark things as well as the bright, 
things easy and things hard, taken in their 
completeness and final outcome work together 
for good to those who are headed right. 

God is not the God of the prosperous alone. 
Whole rooms in our Father's house are filled 
with those who fight the good fight, keep the 
faith and finish their course in a steady battle 
with adversity. God is not the God of sound 
health alone. He might have made us incapable 
[235] 



The Quest of Life 

of suffering as granite blocks, but no one would 
regard that as a gain. The fact that he does 
not in his omnipotence instantly heal the sick 
who call in their distress indicates that in his 
mind there are greater values than physical 
fitness. The sick-bed, the invalid chair, the 
home of pain are sometimes the scenes of 
spiritual victory, of saintly disposition, of holy 
companionships, which become at once a rebuke 
and an inspiration to those who walk in fullness 
of health. The soul may sit in the ruins of 
former advantage and see the Lord with a 
clearness, a nearness and a confidence never 
experienced when those advantages stood 
about him in stately splendor. His account of 
his own changed lot would read like the word 
of the prophet — " In the year when all 
things went, I saw the Lord." 

I am not wise enough to interpret adequately 
the hard, puzzling experiences which fall into 
our lives. No man is — the returns which 
might warrant such final effort are not yet in. 
The instruments for complete analysis are not 
in our hands. The meaning of a full half of 
earth's familiar experience shades off into a 
mysterious unknown. Clouds and darkness are 
round about him even though righteousness and 
judgment are the habitation of his throne. We 
know in part — we see through a glass darkly. 

But every added year of right living 

quickens our power of insight. We see that 

the divine purpose may include pain and sorrow 

within the scope of its plans for spiritual 

[236] 



The Uses of Disappointment 

nurture. The artists are in error when they 
clothe their angels ever in white. The messen- 
gers of the divine purpose come in gray ; they 
come in black; they come in the ordinary dress 
of everyday life. They come with a diversity 
of operation engaged in their ceaseless effort 
to bring us to the point where we shall have 
seen and felt all that belongs to an entire hu- 
manity. God's unhurried purposes are not 
thwarted by some event which seems to us un- 
toward. The comprehensive grasp of his provi- 
dence holds many a sore disappointment as an 
obedient servant of his sovereign will. Look 
up and reflect ! Look deep within your own soul 
and meditate upon the finer values ! Study the 
meaning of that somber experience until your 
unfolding vision enables you to see the Lord ! 

In the third place, the young man's disap- 
pointment brought him a new sense of sympathy 
with his struggling fellows. Isaiah belonged to 
the fortunate class. He lived on the Avenue. 
He was possessed of wealth. He had an assured 
social position which gave him access to the 
Court and to the presence of the king. He was 
familiar with the customs and the costumes of 
fashionable society as he indicates in that later 
chapter where he rebukes the showy extrava- 
gance of the idle rich. 

But through his own disappointment he came 
to feel a deeper sympathy with the wrongs and 
defeats suffered by the common people. He 
felt the stress of that poverty which is caused 
by selfish monopoly. " Woe unto them that 
* [ 237 ] 



The Quest of Life 

join house to house and field to field until there 
be no room " — no room for people of less 
ability to live human lives. He saw the evil 
wrought by those who mix their colors, confuse 
their standards, puzzle their own souls by their 
moral dexterity. " Woe unto them that put 
evil for good and good for evil, darkness for 
light and light for darkness, bitter for sweet 
and sweet for bitter. ' ' 

He developed a new sense of sympathy for 
all those who suffer and fail through the selfish- 
ness of their fellows. His heart grew as the 
outward sources of satisfaction diminished. It 
is by virtue of experiences like these that sym- 
pathy attains its full stature. 

Leland Stanford was governor of the state 
of California, and afterward a United States 
Senator from that commonwealth. He was the 
possessor of a princely fortune. He had an 
only child, and his mind was full of plans for 
the life of that boy. If that son should choose 
a business career the father's large and varied 
interests would open before him untold oppor- 
tunities. If the son should incline to political 
life his father's experience and wide acquaint- 
ance in the councils of state and nation would 
give this youth a superb advantage. If the 
boy should choose a profession, his training, 
equipment and opportunity could be of the very 
best. He need not lack any good thing. 

But in the midst of these loving anticipations 
cherished by his devoted parents the boy of 
twelve fell sick and died in sunny Italy. The 
[238] 



The Uses of Disappointment 

light went out of the lives of those parents. 
The joy faded from their hearts. He was their 
all. Their hopes for happiness as the sun 
should go down the western slope were all cen- 
tered in that child. They had traveled far and 
wide; they had tasted the pleasures of social 
life at its best; they had reaped an abundant 
measure of visible success, and now the mere 
prospect of living on to spend the income of 
their many millions in loneliness seemed to 
them pain insupportable. 

But in the year when the regal fact in their 
lives was taken away they saw the Lord. They 
entered profoundly into a new feeling of sym- 
pathy for all those lives which are baffled in 
their purposes. They stood ready to assume a | 
vaster responsibility. The saddened father 
looked through the windows of his own desolate 
home upon the wide spaces of that common- 
wealth and said, " The children of California 
shall all be my children. ' ' 

With the death of their own child came the 
purpose of founding* and endowing for all time 
a splendid educational institution where young 
men and maidens might be trained, tuition free, 
for lives of honor and usefulness. Whether 
those parents would have caught the vision and 
have done their great work without the disap- 
pointment no one can say. The gift, however, 
sprang directly from that disappointment, as a 
memorial to their son. And now " Stanford 
University " is one of the most splendidly en- 
dowed institutions for higher learning in all the 
[239] 



The Quest of Life 

world. Young people by the thousands from 
California, from all the states of the union, 
and from lands beyond the sea rise up and call 
the names of those parents blessed. The father 
and mother suffered grievous defeat in their 
own plans, but out of that pain was born a 
purpose in which nations may ultimately be 
blessed. 

Blessed are they that mourn ! The words are 
not meant to put a premium on sorrow. They 
indicate the honor and value which attaches to 
the capacity for grief. Blessed are they who 
can and do mourn. When the humane man sees 
his mother becoming old and feeble his heart is 
saddened. When that dear companion of his 
childhood dies he mourns his loss. The Modoc 
Indian sees his mother growing old and he 
shuts her up in a hut until she starves to death, 
or he quietly strangles her. He then goes out 
hunting — he does not mourn. Blessed are 
they that have capacity for sorrow. 

Blessed also are they that mourn, for the eyes 
washed in tears have clearer vision for the 
needs of others. They have a clearer vision of 
the God of all comfort. I sat once in the home 
of a brother minister after his little daughter 
had died. We talked until the sun went down 
and the shadows fell around us. There in the 
darkness he opened his heart and told me how 
changed the world was without her. He felt 
a new tenderness and sympathy for all the 
people on earth who suffer. He felt that the 
little plot in the cemetery gave him a sense of 
[240] 



The Uses of Disappointment 

partnership in all the grief of the human race. 
He felt as if his whole left side had become 
a heart now tender with its warmer interest in 
the world's pain. " Thou hast enlarged me 
when I was in distress.' ' New additions are 
built on to these moral natures of ours when 
disappointment comes. We are increased that 
we may house that capacity for deeper feeling. 
Blessed are they that mourn ! In the year that 
the light dies out of some earthly situation 
men see the Lord and feel a truer kindliness 
toward all his needy children. 

The Son of man was not exempt. " He 
learned obedience by the things that he suf- 
fered." There is no painless education in the 
deep things of life. He " learned obedience " 
— it was not an original endowment, it was a 
spiritual achievement. He learned by the 
things he suffered, by entering personally into 
the profounder experiences of grief and pain. 

Obedience to those laws of life which lie on 
the surface, fencing men off from the coarser 
forms of evil, may readily be acquired without 
pain and distress. But to learn obedience to 
the Father's will so that in Gethsemane or on 
Calvary one can still say, " Not my will but 
Thine be done," requires a deep, prolonged 
participation in the world's pain. 

The world needs men and women who have 
seen the Lord in their hours of disappointment. 
It has work cut out for them which they alone 
can do. In one of the Old World galleries there 
is a picture of the Crucifixion where the artist 
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The Que st of Life 

has painted a group of cherubs hovering about 
the head of the cross. They are examining the 
crown of thorns. One of them feels the sharp 
prick of the thorn and his face wears a curious 
look of surprise. It is all strange, for he has 
never felt the sting of pain. He wonders at 
the look of anguish on the face of Christ. 

But at the foot of the cross are human 
figures entering into the meaning of it all. 
They have felt the prick of pain. They too 
have worn the crown of thorns and have felt 
the spear-thrust in the side. And when the 
gospel is to be carried to waiting nations God 
does not commission the innocent happy angels 
who hover in that upper air. With all their 
radiant holiness they never could bind up the 
broken-hearted or bring relief to the guilty 
through the great truths of the atonement. 
They could not carry comfort to a sinful, needy 
world. They are beautiful as they hang there 
in the gallery but incompetent for this lower 
world of need. The Lord of compassion sends 
forth men and women who have suffered at the 
foot of the cross to proclaim his gospel to the 
waiting nations. 

" In the year that King Uzziah died I saw " 
— I saw what I had never seen before! My 
hero worship passed over into a profounder 
faith in the living God. My conception of 
Providence was broadened until it made provi- 
sion for the spiritual value of sorrow and ad- 
versity. My heart was enlarged with sympathy 
awakening within me a new and deeper love for 
[242] 



The Uses of Disappointment 

all my fellows. The world's redemption is to 
be achieved by those tear-stained lives that have 
seen the light die out and then come again — 
a new and softer light by which they walk and 
work as it directs their hearts in the way of 
peace. r 



[243] 



XV 
THE RANK AND FILE 



"After these things the Lord appointed other seventy 
also and sent them." — Luke x, 1. 



XV 
THE RANK AND FILE 

THE message of our Christian faith cannot 
be written in a book. It cannot be dis- 
played in some stately form of ritual. It must 
be embodied in a life. It can only find adequate 
expression in terms of personality. 

It was so in the beginning, is now and ever 
shall be. " As the Father hath sent me, I 
send you," Jesus said. The Father projected 
his life and love into one country of the world 
by sending his Son. The Son projects his life 
and love into all countries by sending forth 
disciples, men who have caught his mood and 
spirit. He sent twelve, and then seventy, and 
then three thousand, and then other thousands, 
into every section of human interest whither 
he himself would come. This is the only abiding 
method. Many words are made print, but 
" The Word fi which saves the world is made 
flesh and dwells among us, full of grace and 
truth. 

Let me study with you the full significance of 
the sending out of the other seventy disciples 
who were not commissioned officers in the army 
of the Lord — they simply made up the rank 
and file. You will remember the character of 
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The Quest of Life 

the men sent out. They were quiet, obscure 
men — not one of them is known to us by name. 
The names of the twelve are known everywhere. 
The greatest church in Christendom is St. 
Peter's at Eome. The court of the most power- 
ful Christian nation is known as the Court of 
St. James. More children are named for St. 
John than for any other< saint or sinner in his- 
tory. And we have St. Andrew's Brotherhood, 
St. Bartholomew's Hospital and St. Matthew's 
School. We are told in the last book in the 
Bible that the names of those twelve apostles 
will finally be written on the foundation-stones 
of the city of God. 

But none of you can give the name of any 
one of the other seventy. They are the quiet, 
untitled, almost unknown men and women whom 
Christ sends forth. They never do anything 
conspicuous. They will never sit on twelve 
thrones judging the tribes of Israel. They 
never get into the newspapers or into history. 
But they go about doing good, and their names, 
Jesus says, are " written in heaven." 

They were numerous — seventy of them — 
the mere list of so many names would have 
taken too much space in this brief narrative, so 
the names were omitted. They symbolize that 
great multitude which no man can number, of 
all nations and peoples, kindreds and tongues, 
who, having aided in establishing righteousness 
in the earth, are destined to stand before the 
throne, clothed with white robes and with palms 
in their hands. 

[248] 



The Rank and File 

The other seventy were all laymen — 
" babes " in theological understanding. The 
twelve apostles were trained and set apart for 
their work by a high and holy ordination, but 
the other seventy were unofficial, untitled Chris- 
tians, going forth to make the world better by 
living in it as followers of the Master. We have 
no words of depreciation for the great leaders, 
but in the last analysis the hope of the world 
lies in the work of those plain, everyday people 
who form the rank and file. 

You may have seen a church which had a 
minister fifty feet high and several deacons 
almost as tall as the minister. The men in this 
small group were very conspicuous for their 
ability and zeal. The other members of the 
church were not more than five feet six or eight 
in their Christian activity. They did not at- 
tempt much — their time was taken up in 
watching those big trees of righteousness which 
towered aloft like sequoias. But presently the 
lofty minister in this church accepted a call 
elsewhere, the two great deacons moved away, 
and the poor church was left enfeebled. 

You may also have seen another type of 
church where the minister was only Hve feet six 
or eight or possibly ten, but he had around him 
the other seventy, a considerable company of 
fellow Christians, who were equally tall. There 
were no giants among them, no sons of Anak, 
— just a devoted band of sizable, useful Chris- 
tians of average build. But they were all ac- 
customed to work and pray and live the life 
[249] 



The Quest of Life 

— and in response to the efforts of that church, 
the kingdom of God was coming all the while 
with power and great glory. The hope of the 
race is bound up with the service of those in- 
conspicuous, untitled Christians, here repre- 
sented by the other seventy Jesus sent forth. 

You notice also the method of their going. 
They went " two and two," for companion- 
ship and for mutual counsel. The whole 
method of our Christian undertaking is social, 
not solitary. The man who flocks off by him- 
self has broken with the Christian method and 
spirit. 

Two and two — it may be that husband and 
wife went together. If any of the other seventy 
were married, they could not have done better. 
And we may be sure that among the seventy 
there were women. We know that the last 
Christians to leave the Cross on that first Good 
Friday and the first Christians to reach the 
empty tomb on that first Easter morning, were 
women. , Two and two — a man and his wife 
devoting their lives in sacred companionship to 
this service of the highest interests there are. 

They went forth " as lambs among wolves." 
No teeth nor claws, no swords nor guns ! They 
went as Paul went into Macedonia, a troubled 
region then and a troubled region now, with the 
gospel of peace. They went as Livingstone went 
into the heart of the dark continent, with no 
weapon but the great love in his own heart. 
They went as John G. Paton went among the 
cannibals of the South Sea, disarming their 
[250] 



The Rank and F He 

opposition by the potent influence of his own 
unselfish devotion. They were simple, primi- 
tive Christians, who had never read " The 
White Man's Burden," nor caught the trick 
of backing up the offer of a higher life with 
gunpowder. They went, taking their lives in 
their hands, relying upon instruction and per- 
suasion, kindness and self-sacrifice, for the 
spiritual victories they were set to win. 
" Lambs among wolves," kindness pitted 
against cruelty — this is the line of spiritual 
advance. 

They had a definite purpose. They allowed 
nothing to distract or delay them in their ap- 
pointed work. " Salute no man by the way," 
Jesus said. His word sounds almost curt. But 
when one has seen the endless salaaming and 
kotowing which make up a full-orbed oriental 
" salute," he sees at once the significance of 
the command. Ambassadors charged with a 
high errand will not allow themselves to be 
hindered by trivial social observances which eat 
up time and strength to no purpose. The other 
seventy were conscious of the importance of 
their mission and they went straight along 
about their august business, that they might 
bring peace to every house and heart. 

They went as the forerunners and accredited 
representatives of the Christian mode of life. 
Jesus sent them " into every city and place 
whither He Himself would come ! ' ' They could 
not speak as he did, who spoke as never man 
spake, but they could tell something of the glad 
[251] 



The Quest of Life 

tidings he had brought. They could not live 
as he lived, in whom neither Pilate nor all the 
ages since could find any fault at all, but they 
embodied some measure of his spirit in their 
bearing. He sent them as he sends us, to show 
the waiting world all we can of his truth and 
love; to someone you will be the best sample 
of Christian life he will ever be privileged to 
know intimately. It imposes a tremendous 
responsibility, but it is the method of the 
Master — ' ' As the Father hath sent me, I send 
you. ' ' 

This was their message — into whatsoever 
city or town they came, they were to say, * ' The 
kingdom of God is come nigh unto you." It 
had come nigh because two Christians were 
there speaking the truth of the kingdom, em- 
bodying the spirit of the kingdom, living the life 
of the kingdom. The kingdom of God means 
the sway and rule of the divine spirit, and it 
was there in the lives of those two. By the 
subtle, irresistible power of spiritual contagion 
it would be communicated to many another life. 

It was a great message! He did not send 
them forth to exhort the world to be a bit more 
decent and respectable outwardly. He outlined 
their task, making it vital, fundamental, per- 
manent in character. " The kingdom of God 
is come nigh unto you ' ' — they were to lift 
society to a higher loyalty, to a more exalted 
fellowship, to a more glorious destiny. This 
was the high command given to those untitled 
people who made up the other seventy. 
[252] 



The Rank and File 

What tremendous significance Jesus attached 
to the service of those plain people ! We cannot 
all be major generals — it would be a calamity 
if we could. You never heard of a battle being 
won where the commissioned officers did all the 
fighting. If the officers were wise and brave 
they had their share of honor, but the issue 
turned finally upon the fidelity of those plain 
men without shoulder-straps, who count fours, 
march in platoons, obey orders and carry the 
day. 

The same method holds in the war against 
evil. If this world is ever won to Christ, if a 
Christian civilization ever comes down out of 
heaven from God, beautiful as a bride adorned 
for her husband, it will result, not so much 
from the efforts of the major generals, who 
write big books, preach great sermons and 
inaugurate wide reforms, valuable as all this 
work may be. It will result mainly from the 
fact that the rank and file have kept step, 
marched close, fought bravely until evil was 
trampled in the dust. By plain, everyday 
Christian conduct in the shop and in the store, 
in the school and in the home, these varied 
forms of interest shall at last become king- 
doms of our Lord. 

We sometimes overlook the unmeasured 
worth of those quiet people who have made 
Christian duty their supreme choice. Their 
work is fully known only to him who seeth in 
secret. If Rev. Dr. James is called to a 
large city church, if St. Peter is made a bishop, 
[253] 



The Quest of Life 

if St. John writes a book, everybody knows it. 
If Brother Bartholomew endows a college, or 
Brother Nathaniel fonnds a hospital, the news- 
papers all have it with headlines and pictures. 
This is all very well and the kingdom is ad- 
vanced by such noble service. 

But " Are all apostles? Are all prophets! 
Do all speak with tongues? Are all workers 
of miracles? " There are many walking in 
what Paul called " an excellent way," whose 
service is altogether simple. They cannot 
speak with the tongues of men and angels ; they 
do not understand all mysteries and all knowl- 
edge; they cannot exercise faith that would 
move mountains, but they can love. They can 
suffer long and be kind. They can act the part 
of unselfishness and not be puffed up. They 
can hope and endure, they can bear and believe 
all things and thus move along that great 
highway of spiritual usefulness which " never 
faileth." 

Moses once uttered a prayer for religious 
democracy. " Would God that all the Lord's 
people were prophets." His hope is in process 
of fulfillment. The Lord gives the word, great 
is the company of them that publish it. The 
other seventy went everywhere proclaiming 
the kingdom. They are doing the same thing 
to-day. Here is a man who hears a sermon and 
goes home to preach it over again to his sick 
wife — he preaches it better because he leaves 
out the non-essentials, using only those parts 
which are vital. Here is a woman who repeats 
[254] 



The Rank and F He 

the message to her husband who is at work, on 
the street car perhaps, and could not come. 
Here is one who sees some passage of Scrip- 
ture shine with fresh meaning and he goes out 
to impart it to a friend or to a group of chil- 
dren. Thus the gospel is preached far and wide 
by those who feel its power and then pass it 
on, according to the method of the unordained 
seventy. May the Lord's blessing rest richly 
upon all the Lord's people who have in this 
unofficial way become prophets. 

You may be tempted sometimes to feel that 
because you march in the ranks and wear no 
sword, you are lost in the crowd. You may feel 
that among so many you will not be missed if 
you should withhold your measure of service. 
You are mistaken. When an experienced 
director is leading a great orchestra in the 
rendition of some splendid composition, his 
trained ear detects the slightest omission. The 
lack of a few notes from the oboe at one point, 
the absence of a few taps on the tympanum, the 
failure to bring in those softer tones of flute 
or harp would mar for him the completeness 
of the symphony. And that rich volume of 
tone which comes from the simultaneous play- 
ing of many violins would not be secured for 
him by half the number of violins, each one 
playing twice as loud. He listens with the ear 
of an expert detecting the slightest omission. 

When we assemble to render to God a service 
of worship, he to whom the service is offered, 
he whose spirit directs it, notes the slightest 
[255] 



The Quest of Life 

omission. The minister may fail to see your 
empty seat, but the Father's eye would note 
the absence of any one of his children. The 
people may not know whether you prayed be- 
fore you came or not, but each cold and prayer- 
less heart means a definite omission in the 
completeness of the service the Lord had ex- 
pected. We are all needed, minister and choir, 
ushers and sexton, each one doing his best, and 
the other seventy coming in that the volume 
of praise may be like the sound of many waters, 
a veritable river of inspiration making glad 
the city of God. 

The results of the mission of the untitled 
seventy were significant. They returned again 
with joy saying, ' ' Lord, the devils were subject 
unto us through thy name." They had won 
notable victories over the forces of evil. Sick 
people had been healed; men wild and foolish 
in their religious notions had been instructed 
until they became sane and useful; men held 
in the tight grip of wrongdoing had been 
released and reclaimed — they were now free 
and brave in the cause of righteousness ; peace 
had come to many a house and many a 
heart where the good news of the kingdom had 
been proclaimed. And all this was accom- 
plished by those plain people who found the 
forces of evil subject to them when they made 
their approach in the name and in the spirit 
of Christ. 

Jesus rejoiced with them in the high success 
of their undertaking. " In that hour Jesus 
[256] 



The Rank and F He 

exulted in spirit " — it is the only instance 
where we read that he " exulted M — and said, 
" I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven 
and earth." Then he spoke in the most san- 
guine terms as to the outcome of all such move- 
ments of the plain people set upon the coming 
of the kingdom of God. " I saw Satan falling 
from heaven like lightning ! ' ' He gave thanks 
that God had revealed himself, not so much to 
the wise and prudent as to those simple, child- 
like people who yielded themselves in uncalcu- 
lating devotion to his service. Then he turned 
to the privileged twelve, and said, " Blessed 
are the eyes which see what you see, ' ' the moral 
power of the common people possessed by the 
spirit as here symbolized in the success of 
the other seventy. Kings and priests had 
desired to see these things and had not seen 
them. 

How reassuring it all is ! How prophetic of 
ultimate victory ! The great moral movements 
of the common people, when they become fired 
with a passion for righteousness, are a testi- 
mony to the presence of the Holy Spirit among 
us. He is here resident, powerful, efficient, 
bringing every thought into captivity to the 
spirit that was in Christ. He is here working 
his own sovereign purpose and will, the living 
energy of the living God. He is here in all 
these nobler yearnings and broodings, in all 
these finer aspirations and better impulses in 
the hearts of men. He finds us often slow to 
respond, for our ears are dull and our hearts 
[257] 



The Quest of Life 

gross, but his work goes on until there comes a 
great awakening of moral determination, of 
spiritual resolve, of high insistence upon those 
principles whose right it is to rule. Then the 
eye of the Master sees the reign of evil falling 
swiftly to its doom. 

It is neither possible nor desirable that 
everyone should sit on the right hand or the 
left hand of the Son of man. It is not ours 
to get nor his to give — it shall be given to 
those for whom it has been prepared. But it 
is possible and desirable that everyone should 
drink his cup of sacrifice and be baptized with 
his spirit of devotion. 

Like the Jews of old, everyone can build 
over against his own house some part of the 
perfect world. You can build into those little 
children a set of holy and beautiful desires. 
You can build into that growing boy, whose con- 
fidence you enjoy, some ennobling habits, some 
sterling principles, some inspiring truths. You 
can build into the heart of that man at your 
side a deep impression of the worth and sincer- 
ity of your own Christian life. You can build 
into your own street another Christian home, 
radiating its atmosphere of peace and love. 
You can build into your church a record of 
Christian usefulness which will reassure and 
inspire every fellow-member. And while you 
are doing that, day by day and night by night, 
you are becoming a pillar in the temple of re- 
deemed society to go no more out. You are 
helping to rear that great structure of service 
[258] 



The Rank and F He 

and of recovery, which shall house and redeem 
the enduring interests of the race. 

We feel here in our country at this time a 
ground swell of Christian democracy. How- 
ever we may distrust the showy words of some 
of its self-appointed leaders, however futile and 
visionary we may regard some of its impossible 
programmes, there is no manner of doubt but 
that the plain people are firmly set upon the 
rule of certain principles of righteousness 
which have to do with the coming of the king- 
dom. The other seventy, who work mainly 
with their hands, have not been receiving an 
equitable share of the good things they helped 
to create. The untitled, unprivileged majority 
has been denied that fuller participation in the 
general prosperity to which it is entitled. And 
the smaller company of privileged people have 
had more than was good for them. We have 
too much poverty and too much luxury for a 
Christian civilization. We have too many 
people in our cities who live without working 
and altogether too many who work without 
living. Now the other seventy are rising up in 
a mighty insistence upon a more democratic 
spirit in the control of great industries, upon 
a more humane regard for the higher values 
at stake in the huge business of production and 
upon a more equitable distribution of the good 
things of life. 

In many quarters the profound significance 
of this unrest seems to be hid from the wise 
and prudent. It is being revealed to those 
[259] 



The Quest of Life 

simple, straightforward natures who have eyes 
to see and ears to hear. There is a will of God 
to be recognized and realized in that big world 
where men bny and sell, employ and are em- 
ployed, quite as much as in these sacred pre- 
cincts set apart for song and prayer. Let the 
will of God be done ! 

" Eemember the week day to keep it holy," 
someone has said. It is a divine command; 
it has behind it all the authority of Sinai. The 
broken and defeated lives which have suffered 
not only economic but moral loss, through the 
weary grind which has robbed them of the zest 
and relish of life, are offering a challenge to 
the moral forces of the country. It is a chal- 
lenge which must be met. The people are de- 
manding the moralization of industry, the 
rightening of civic affairs in the interest of the 
many and the introduction of the spirit of 
Christian brotherhood into all these forms of 
social contact. And when that insistence, 
which is Christian at heart, makes itself felt, as 
it surely will, I believe that again the great 
heart of Christ will rejoice in seeing the selfish 
forces of evil overthrown by the work of the 
other seventy. 

It is a vaster movement than the winning of 
some particular victory over a few of the evils 
of the world. "When the seventy made their 
report Jesus exulted, and then added, " Not- 
withstanding, in this rejoice not that the devils 
are subject unto you. Eejoice rather that your 
names are written in heaven.' ' The success of 
[260] 



The Rank and F He 

an hour, the winning of a single skirmish, the 
driving back of the forces of wrong at some 
particular point was not nearly so significant 
as the permanent enrollment of those men and 
women as citizens of that kingdom which is an 
everlasting kingdom. 

Good men may win a victory to-day and an- 
other to-morrow and then on the third day 
suffer defeat. Yet all the while because their 
wills have been brought into harmony with the 
will of God, they will be in the full enjoyment 
of celestial recognition; they will be moving 
ahead toward the great fulfillment when all 
these kingdoms of human interest shall become 
kingdoms of our Lord. Rejoice above all that 
* ' your names are written in heaven, ' ' that your 
fundamental purpose is to serve him who shall 
reign until he has put all things under his feet. 

It seems that nothing moved the heart of 
Christ to exult as did the return of the seventy, 
singing their song of victory and bearing the 
marks of service. No other sight so moves the 
heart of the world. A friend of mine once de- 
scribed the scene he witnessed in Washington 
at the close of the Civil War. He was on the 
grandstand when the armies of Grant and 
Sherman passed in review. He saw the victori- 
ous hosts march down Pennsylvania Avenue. 
He described the intense interest of the people. 
They were eager to see Grant and Sherman and 
all the other officers whose names had become 
household words in the North. When any one 
of those men appeared and was recognized, the 
[261] 



The Quest of Life 

crowd went wild. They shouted and cheered 
until the whole city rang with joy. 

But there was something more significant and 
more sacred than all this. When the conspicu- 
ous leaders had passed, there came the tramp 
and tread of the common soldiers. Then the 
crowd grew strangely quiet. Here were the 
men who did not go on horseback. They 
walked; they ate the hardtack; they dug the 
ditches; they slept on the ground, suffering 
from fever and malaria. They marched out on 
the field stiff and sore, to be shot at, knowing 
that many of them would fill the trenches of 
the dead. They kept right along, doing those 
plain things until the war was ended, the slaves 
freed and the union preserved. The people did 
not know their names; they could not always 
read the letters on the flag ; the men might be- 
long to a regiment from Maine or they might 
be from California. They were the untitled 
seventy, the dusty, worn and weary men who 
had been doing their duty in such heroic fashion 
that the forces of evil were subject unto them. 
There had been glad cheers for the generals 
— now there were sacred tears of loving appre- 
ciation for the common soldiers. 

You cannot all be major generals. You 
cannot all ride at the head of the procession. 
You cannot all be apostles and have churches 
at Rome, or world-wide brotherhoods named 
after you. But there is no life here which 
may not catch the spirit of Christ, enroll him- 
self under the banner of Christ and by the use- 
[262] 



The Rank and F He 

ful service he renders cause the Saviour to 
rejoice when he sees him coming up to render 
an account of the warfare he has waged 
against the powers of evil. May God help us 
to so live that our names too may be written 
in heaven and that Christ may thank the Lord 
of heaven and earth when he sees us pass before 
him in the great review. 



[263] 



OCT 2 1913 



L 



